Turning the Page
by theicemenace
Summary: When his plane crashes in the Australian desert in winter, Evan Lorne's rescue comes from an unlikely and reluctant source.  How will his Atlantis friends and family find him?
1. Silent Conversation

**A/N: **Here's the 411. A few weeks ago, I offered a one-shot fic up to 2K words if someone would Beta the last chapter of "Atlantis Awaits" and ShaViva was kind enough to do it for me. However, when I started brainstorming with ladygris on the plot of the fic it sort of snowballed. It all started with lg saying, "Sha would _love_ a fic about Lorne in Australia." And this is the result.

Enjoy and don't forget to review.

~Sandy

**Turning the Page **

**Chapter 1**

**Silent Conversation**

"Mayday, mayday, mayday! Adelaide, this is echo-tango-four-zero-niner-hotel-lima. Jabiru Juliet-one-six-zero. Electrical power has failed. Weather cloudy. Setting down ASAP. At 1325, last known position two-zero-zero kilometers east of your location. Current position, altitude and fuel unknown. One person on board. Gonna need a lift. Over." A burst of static made Evan Lorne wince, then silence. Just in case, he repeated the information. As he finished his second recitation, the engine sputtered one last time and the ground came up to meet him.

~~O~~

_Whir-click._

_Whir-click, whir-click._

The woman wielding the camera was so far from everything that the sounds of the camera, the crunch of her hiking boots on the dry ground and the soft nickering of her Australian Stock Horse didn't even echo. Reptiles, rabbits and other creatures of the desert scurried out of her path, some staring boldly before running off as a small brown snake slithered past. They all ignored each other.

Shannon didn't know what had possessed her to bring her camera-she eschewed digital-or her horse on this particular outing so she just snapped photos at random. Crouching, she'd just focused in on a shot of the brown snake about to pounce on a mouse when all were disturbed by the sputtering of an airplane engine. Standing, she turned the camera, adjusting the focus until it came into sight, her finger automatically snapping several photos.

The pilot had the mic in one hand while the other held fast to the control wheel, smoke beginning to fill the cabin. He tossed the mic aside, using both hands to pull on the wheel just as the engine cut out completely, managing to get the nose up just as it went behind a distant hill. The sound of the crash startled the snake and mouse, both going their separate ways.

A quick glance at the sky told her the sun would soon be down. It was late fall and temperatures dropped significantly after dark. Injured or not, the pilot might not survive the night on his own. She mounted up, the camera hanging around her neck. Taking the reins in her right hand, she gave the signal and Botany obediently took off at a gallop.

Twenty minutes later, Shannon pulled back on the reins, dismounted and was already running to the still smoking plane resting half in and half out of what was left of the small lake before Botany came to a complete halt. She wasn't a pilot herself, but even she could tell it was a total loss. She took photos of the crash from several different angles then turned her full attention to the man face down on the ground, clicking off a few shots of him before tucking the camera into her saddlebag.

The pilot had managed to get himself out of the cockpit collapsing not far enough away to keep from being severely injured or even killed should the plane explode. She dropped to one knee beside him, two fingers checking and finding a steady pulse. After a quick check for broken bones she rolled him onto his back. It was the same face she'd seen through her viewfinder only now that she could see the entirety of it, she found him to be quite attractive. His features were relaxed though she could see gentle creases at the sides of his mouth and eyes. She guessed his age at late thirties, forty maybe.

Using medical knowledge she'd learned from her father, a small town medical doctor, she lifted each eyelid, noting that his eyes were a bright blue, and that they reacted normally to the fading light. With a sigh of relief, she examined the wound on his head, the bleeding already slowing. Taking the bandana from around her neck, she folded it corner to corner then rolled it until it was narrow enough to tie around his head, positioning the thickest part to put pressure on the wound.

She found a second injury on his left forearm that was fairly deep. Removing her dark green flannel shirt, she tore it into strips and bandaged that area as well. There was also a contusion on his left leg, the torn edges of his jeans matted with blood and sticking to it. Using another long strip from the now ruined shirt, she bandaged that as well. The smaller injuries could wait until she'd gotten him back to the house. She had no way to call anyone so with her is where he'd stay until the authorities came looking for him.

Though her work as an artist made her physically strong, he was still too heavy for her to lift. Botany came to her side when she whistled. Another command and the horse bent his front legs and got down onto the ground. At that height she was able to wrestle the man onto his stomach over the big animal's back. In this position she could see a bloody splotch indicating a wound on his back.

This time using a hand signal, she told Botany to stand. She didn't have rope with her so she just prayed the man would stay put. Taking the reins again, she led the way back home.

~~O~~

It was full dark when Shannon and her charge arrived. Leading Botany around to the side window, she threw the reins down in a ground hitch, and then hurried inside. Using her shirt for bandages had left her with only a long-john top covering the upper half of her body and, just as she'd known it would, the cold had come around.

Shivering, she went into the spare room, opened the window, moved the double bed as close as she could and whistled for Botany. Stepping carefully, he came near enough that she could lift the man's legs inside the window, the toes of his sneakers below the window sill. Grabbing his belt, she tugged to get him moving then quickly wrapped her arms around his torso so they were front to front. She'd managed to maneuver him around until they were sideways to the bed before her strength gave out and they fell onto the mattress with him on top of her.

Though she should have been annoyed, another emotion had taken its place, reminding her how good it felt to be close to someone. And despite the cold, warmth suffused her where their bodies touched reminding her of things she'd almost forgotten.

Her situation was not helped by the fact that Botany stuck his head in the window and whinnied, making it seem as if he were laughing at her. She scowled, clicking her tongue and the animal withdrew.

Grunting and pushing, Shannon was finally able to roll him off of her and onto his back. More grunting, shoving and pulling got him into the mattress on his back, legs and arms somewhat straight. After closing the window and moving the bed back into place, she stood with hands on hips panting as she contemplated her next move.

He'd have to be undressed and all of his injuries seen to. From what she'd seen of the head wound, he probably had a concussion. Since he hadn't regained consciousness, she would proceed on that assumption and treat him accordingly.

Going to the kitchen, she set water to heating then went to the bathroom for gauze, tape, antibiotic cream, towels and antiseptic. Just in case, she also brought a suture set and a bottle of liquid bandage. Living alone so far from medical care she had to be prepared to treat herself until help arrived.

Filling a large bowl with hot water, she carried it into the bedroom and set it on the dresser to the right of the bed. She took off his sneakers, an American brand popular here in her homeland. After struggling to remove his shirt, she chose to use a pair of scissors to cut his jeans off-they were ruined anyway-leaving him in just his socks and boxers.

First she attended to his forehead then ran her hands over the rest of his scalp finding a lump on the back. There was no blood so she took an ice pack from the freezer and applied it while she worked on the rest of him.

Carefully rolling him onto his stomach, she examined the cut. It wasn't deep and would heal in a fortnight. She cleaned it with the antiseptic, spread antibiotic cream over the area then bandaged it.

On his back again, she cleaned the cut on his forearm, her forehead crinkling in puzzlement when a tiny piece of metal the size of a grain of rice appeared on the cloth. She took a pair of tweezers from the bathroom and held it under the lamp light. It was covered in blood so no details could be seen. Taking an old medicine bottle from the counter she dropped it inside and capped it. Probably something he picked up in the crash.

Returning to the bedroom, she sealed the cut with liquid bandage. She'd have to keep an eye on it because it was deep enough that infection could be an issue. If he awakened…_when_ he awakened she'd find out if he was allergic to any antibiotics. If not, she'd give him some from the supply she kept on hand.

She used the warm water to clean the dirt, soot and blood from his face, a shiver of awareness dancing down her spine when her thumb accidentally grazed his lips. They parted almost as if he were inviting her to kiss him or was about to smile. She took in his strong features and wondered what he'd look like when he smiled. She imagined that his blue eyes would sparkle and his laugh would be spontaneous, beginning deep inside before bursting out of his incredibly soft lips.

Shaking her head at the silliness of her thoughts, she continued with her task. Wiping the cloth down his cheeks, the backs of her fingers brushed over the dark bristles. It had been so long since she'd been close enough to a man to feel his evening beard that it was disconcerting, not to mention arousing.

After rinsing the hand towel in the hot water, she began on his chest and arms, feeling the muscles expand and contract involuntarily. Movement caught her attention, her eyes rolling when certain parts of his body responded to her touch though he was still unconscious. Deciding that discretion was the best course of action, she pulled the sheet up to his waist.

Uncovering first one leg then the other, she finished cleaning the lower half of his body. Well, as much as she was willing to do. Lifting his left arm, she checked that the clear liquid bandage had dried then washed around it, up to his shoulder where she found a tattoo. Two words in Latin and a date.

Circling the bed, she sat beside him with her hip touching his, and lifted his right arm. As she wiped the cloth over his hand, she took note of how the palm and fingers were calloused, the hands of a man used to physical labor. She also couldn't help but notice the difference in the sizes of their hands, hers looking small and delicate next to his. Giving in to temptation, she weaved their fingers together, noting that they seemed to be a perfect fit. He had another tattoo on this bicep as well, the logo of a branch of the US military, recognition bringing with it a brief moment of emotional pain.

She laid his arm across his stomach, but before she could move away that same hand moved quickly to her waist as if to pull her close, his fingers flexing slightly. Startled, she jumped up and backed away, watching him warily. His movements had seemed to indicate that he was waking up though his eyes stayed closed, the steady rhythm of his breathing remaining unchanged.

Going to the living room, she swept up her shotgun and carried it with her into the bedroom. He hadn't changed position.

Relaxing just a little, Shannon went to settle Botany in his stall for the night. The bay had never borne any weight on his back aside from hers and the man had to outweigh her considerably so she gave him an extra treat for being so patient and gentle.

She returned to the house, going into the kitchen to make herself a sandwich. Nothing fancy, just lettuce, tomato and pickles eating it standing up at the sink. Living alone, she had neither the need nor the desire to create meals from scratch. Mostly she ate sandwiches, canned soups or pre-made frozen dinners. It didn't matter. Very little had mattered to her for some time aside from her art. It was the only thing that kept her from swaying over the edge into insanity though there were many who thought that insanity was a pre-requisite to making your living as an artist. Most of the time, like now, she thought they were right. She had to have been crazy to bring a total and complete stranger into her home.

A thorough search of what was left of his clothing gave her nothing with which to identify him. No phone. No wallet. Nothing except for the tattoos. _Semper__Fi_, the motto of the United States Marine Corp. It marked him as American. And if he was a member of that particular military organization, he was even more dangerous than she originally thought.

And the date. October 23, 1983. It rang a bell, but she was too tired to bring the memory to the surface.

The second tattoo confused her. The upswept wings and star were the logo for the US Air Force.

So was he in the Marines or the Air Force? Her mind leaned toward the Air Force because he was a pilot. She thought, too, that he must be an exceptional one to have been able to walk away from that particular landing with relatively minor injuries. And if he was still a member of the military, where were his dog tags?

Dragging the rocking chair from the front room into the bedroom doorway, she laid the shotgun across her lap prepared to spend the entire night there. Even with her bedroom door locked, he was a stranger and she didn't trust him. But then she didn't trust easily. The only reason he was here now was because she refused to let him die on the cold hard ground near the wreckage of his plane.

Using her feet, she rocked the chair back and forth making it creak on the wooden floor listening to his quiet breathing.

~~O~~

Awakening suddenly, Shannon's eyes immediately went to the bed. Sometime during the night he'd pulled the covers up to his neck and rolled onto his left side, his left arm tucked under the pillow. Her eyes dropped to her lap where the shotgun still lay. She got to her feet, and making as little noise as possible, went into the adjoining bathroom carrying the weapon with her. Just as she was drying her hands she heard the bed creak. Unlocking the door, she cautiously peeked through the crack. All he'd done was roll over again so that he now faced her.

He'd only been here a few hours and she was getting jumpy. She'd never been that way in the past. Ever. So why now? The answer came in a flicker of embarrassment she was glad he couldn't see. She was attracted to this man, very much so. And that presented a problem because it was likely he'd be here for several weeks.

Her home was accessible only by air and horseback. She didn't even have a radio, just her CD and DVD collections for entertainment. Communication with the outside world occurred when her supplies were delivered and when the Senior Constable came around for his monthly check-in. Taking a few moments, she wondered how the stranger would react to being stuck here with her so far from civilization.

His left arm now rested on the outside of the covers. She approached close enough to examine the cut noting that it looked like it was already beginning to heal. Leaning down, she checked his head wound with the same results. Reaching out, she ran her hand over the lump finding it a little smaller than the night before. She was examining the cut over his shoulder blade when he rolled onto his back, a soft grunt coming from his throat. It appeared that her guest was waking up.

Scooping up her shotgun, she retreated to the door. An idea occurred to her and she ran to the other room, the one where she kept odds and ends. She dragged a box from the top shelf, took something from it and returned to the second bedroom.

Approaching him from an angle she hoped would allow her to get away if he was just pretending she quickly hooked one ring of a pair of handcuffs over his left wrist then snapped the other around the bedpost. Brushing her hands down the back of her jeans, she returned to the shotgun, lifting it to her eye and sighting on her guest. She would have preferred to immobilize his dominant hand, but he was lying on it and she didn't want to wait for him to move or wake up.

He didn't move again aside from the steady rise and fall of his chest. Slowly lowering the weapon, she took an involuntary step forward, her heartbeat increasing. She knew his body to be firmly muscled, but seeing the evidence in the daylight made her mouth go dry. She'd forgotten how incredibly…pleasing it was to see a man without a shirt.

Now that he was shackled she felt safe enough to shower and eat, hoping he'd be awake by then and she could at least find out his name. She opened the window to let in some of the cool morning air that would warm up by noon, dragged the rocker back to the front room and softly closed the door.

**TBC**


	2. Not a Home

**A/N:** Many thanks go out to ladygris for her Beta and brainstorming services. Hope she enjoyed the vision of Lorne in handcuffs as much as I did. ;-)

~Sandy

**Turning the Page**

**Chapter 2**

**Not a Home**

Still mostly asleep, Lorne tried to move, but something stopped him so he stayed put. He'd just dropped off again when he was insistently nudged in the back. "Okay, _okay_. One more time then I _really_ gotta get some sleep or I'll be worthless on the mission tomorrow." His voice had a sexy, husky quality as if he were having an incredibly…_vivid_ dream. The prodding stopped making him grin. "Changed your mind, honey?"

His eyes shot open when he heard the unmistakable sound of a horse whinnying. He shivered, pulled the covers up to his neck and rolled over, taken aback when he came face to face with big brown eyes set into the placid face of a horse.

The bright light coming in through the window around the animal stabbed at his brain making his head throb. He squeezed his eyes shut as he touched the tender lump on the back of his head and winced. Risking the pain again, he cracked his eyelids, squinting as he glanced around.

The room was starkly furnished and unadorned. No paintings or photographs anywhere. On one wall, a fireplace looked cold and lonely without a fire going. On the other, an old dresser made of dark wood squatted between two doors, a runner, yellowed with age and neglect the only decoration. One of the doors stood ajar, clothing on hangers showing it to be a closet. The second door had to lead to a bathroom. At least he hoped so when his bladder began to protest.

Turning back to the animal, it showed its teeth in what looked like a smile of greeting. "Who are you?" The head nodded up and down in response, the horse wrinkling its upper lip. Lorne pushed himself to a sitting position, giving in to the request, groaning at the stiffness that permeated his entire body. He drew a hand down its nose then tried to get up, jerked to a stop by the handcuffs. "Not again! _Dammit!_" He tugged harder, but he was hooked well and good to the sturdy wooden bed. "Hello? Anyone there? I could use a hand." _Literally_, he thought, watching the open doorway waiting for some response. When none came, he turned back to the horse still wanting attention.

"Guess it's just you and me, sweetheart." Lorne rubbed the nose and tickled the upper lip, rewarded with a flick of the long tail, black to match the mane. "What's your name, girl?"

"_His_ name's Botany."

The voice startled Lorne, his right hand automatically dropping down slapping his thigh, but what he was looking for, he didn't know. That same hand lifted away from his body in the universal please-don't-shoot-me sign at seeing a weapon pointed at him, his headache starting to ease in spite of the circumstances. "Where am I?"

"Blueberry Hill." At his confusion, she explained gesturing around her to indicate the house. "Our place. Mine 'n…Botany's." Slowly lowering the weapon, she glared at him with suspicion.

"How'd I get here?" He shivered, again pulling the sheet up to his neck.

The glare faded, turning to concern. "Ya don't remember?"

"Uh…" he searched his memory finding it full of holes. The most notable missing piece was how he'd come to be handcuffed to a bed. From the look of the room, it couldn't be hers. Not to mention that he didn't pick up women at bars and go home with them on so short an acquaintance. At least he didn't think so. "No." He lifted one eyebrow in question. "Um, we didn't…"

A flash of anger flickered in brown eyes so dark they were almost black, her hands clenching on the shotgun. "'Course we _didn__'__t_. I'm _not_ the town bike!"

"I didn't mean to _imply_ that." Lorne tugged at his wrist. "It's just that I'm handcuffed to a bed wearing nothing but…" he lifted the blanket and let it drop, "…well, nothing, with a beautiful woman holding a Miroku Model 10 Sport shotgun on me.**"**

"Know a lot about 'em, do ya?"

Lorne tried to trace the origin of his knowledge of the weapon and found another hole so he just shrugged, pretending to misunderstand. "Beautiful women? I get by." She let that pass without a response. "What's your name?"

"What's yours?"

"I asked first."

She lifted the shotgun again. "The Miroku puts _me_ in charge, so let's hear it."

He found another space where a memory should have been, but it was soon filled. "Lorne."

"Lorne what?"

The slight smile he'd let turn up the corners of his mouth left. "I…"

"Don't remember?" He nodded. "Not good. You hit your head during the crash. What's the year?"

"Two thousand…something. Crash?"

She ignored his question. "Birthday?"

"May. Am I gonna get the third degree?"

The kettle whistled stopping the questioning for now. Resting the shotgun against the doorjamb, she left the room forcing him to raise his voice to be heard.

"Wait! I _do_ remember the crash! There was a, uh, a power failure on all systems then the engine caught on fire. Tried to miss the lake. Guess I only partially succeeded." Lorne heard her moving around in the outer room. "Um, how'd I get _here?_"

"We brought you. Me and Botany."

He was impressed because she didn't look strong enough to accomplish that task even with the help of her horse. She entered the room again with a bowl of hot water and some towels setting both on the table opposite of where he was shackled. Glancing over he saw a variety of first aid supplies spread out obviously waiting to be used. "How long was I out?"

"Since about sundown three days ago, give or take." Dipping the hand towel in the water, she wrung it and shook it out.

Lorne rattled the handcuffs. "If you went to all the trouble of rescuing me, why the jewelry?"

"Not taking any chances." A quick glance in his direction then she went back to what she was doing. "Winter's coming. And just 'cause I prefer the company of m' horse to people doesn't mean I'll let someone freeze to death."

"Well, thanks."

"Welcome." She circled around to his side of the bed. "If you promise to behave, I'll have a look at your injuries."

"You have my word. No funny business." He watched her lean close, felt the bandage on his forehead come off, the tape pulling at the surrounding area. Holding in a hiss of pain as she applied the antiseptic, he tried to keep his eyes on his lap instead of the fact that her breasts came within inches of his face, but looking down only gave him a close-up view of her narrow hips, slender thighs, flat stomach and occasionally her navel. He judged her to be a little underweight for her five-four frame, maybe one-seventeen at most. Her dark brown hair twisted into pigtails, fair skin, blue jeans and cream-colored turtleneck made her look much younger than his guess of late-twenties to early thirties. She worked calmly and efficiently, no wasted movements, as she cleansed the area and replaced the bandage with a fresh one. "You, uh, still haven't told me _your_ name."

"Shannon."

She touched the skin surrounding the deep cut on his left arm. "Ow!" It hurt, but not as bad as expected from the way it looked.

"Sorry. Not used to patients who can talk."

Gritting his teeth, he tried not to move as she worked. The breath he didn't know he'd been holding eased out when she finished.

"Turn over so I can get at your back."

He did as she requested, her hands on his skin feeling less clinical and more intimate than it had been so far, causing him to shiver.

"Sorry. Cold hands."

An urge to tell her that it had been her _touch_ that had caused his reaction came and went, as fleeting as an ice cube in the sun. Instead, he mentally broke down and reassembled a P-90, finally relaxing again. He was confused at how he even knew what a P-90 was though his hands could feel the shape and the weight of it, feel the kick as he squeezed the trigger letting loose a volley of gunfire that nearly deafened him.

She grabbed the top edge of the covers and made to remove them. And he felt compelled to complain, grabbing at the fuzzy material, catching only the sheet, he barely managed to keep most of the lower half of his body covered, pulling it up to his neck. "Hey! How about dinner and a movie first?"

"Modesty from a soldier? How quaint. Who d'you think undressed and cleaned up after you the last couple of days?" They engaged in a short tug of war, Shannon finally relenting, tossing the blanket at him. He spread it out, tucking it under his armpits. "It's no worries for _me,_ but that scrape on your leg needs tending or it'll get infected."

_Soldier?_ _Yeah, __that __sounds __right._ The memories he was able to gain access to fit with that description. Lorne peeked under again and saw another bandage on his lower leg. He uncovered the limb and she went to work. "I need a trip to the latrine please."

"Think about it." Her voice wasn't teasing as he'd expected. She was serious.

Deciding to push his luck, he asked about another subject weighing on his mind, or rather, his stomach. "What about something to drink and eat?" For some reason he pictured a turkey sandwich, but in his mind it wasn't himself eating it. A man with dark hair and wearing a black uniform sat across from him, a computer tablet between them as they talked about missions, team assignments, drills and inspections. The memory seemed recent, no more than a few weeks ago.

"Sure. Hope you're not picky."

"You put it in front of me and I'll eat it."

The smile from before was back, this time reaching her eyes as she gathered up the used bandages, towels and bowl. "You might be sorry you said that when you taste m' cookin'."

With a grin, Lorne raised his voice to be heard as she left the room. "I'm a fair cook. I could whip us up something, if you like. Um, I'll need some clothes."

~~O~~

Though she gave the appearance of ignoring his comment, Shannon's mind recalled the last time a man had cooked for her. It had been shortly before Steven… She pushed the memory away just as she always did.

After carrying the soiled bandages to the trash and dumping the dirty water down the drain, she washed her hands and set about making Lorne and herself a meal. She opened a can of condensed chicken soup, dumped it into the pan already on the stove, adding water before lighting the burner and turning it to simmer.

Returning to the bedroom, she went to the closet and reached inside, tossing a pair of dark blue jeans and a white with red plaid flannel shirt at him before picking up the shotgun again. Taking a key ring from her pocket, she tossed it to Lorne, who caught it with his free hand then raised the weapon, pointing it at his midsection. "Unlock it and put the key on the table." He did as she ordered, moving slowly, careful not to startle her into doing something she'd regret. _Smart__man._ "Put those on, go into the bathroom, do your business, and come right back out." She kept the shotgun trained on him, not wavering, showing him she knew how to use it. "And don't be long about it. Lunch'll be ready soon."

"Yes, ma'am."

He'd said it without sarcasm, telling her more than she thought could be conveyed with just two words. This man was used to giving _and_ taking orders, more than likely from both men and women in positions of authority, and was comfortable doing so. Just another bit that marked him as a soldier.

~~O~~

Lorne looked at the clothing he'd been provided and somehow knew they weren't his. She hadn't provided him with a pair of boxers ad he wasn't too keen on going commando in another man's fatigues. _As __cold __as __it __is, __it __doesn__'__t __look __like __I __have __a __choice __unless __I __wanna __walk __bare-ass __naked __to __the __bathroom._

He pulled the clothing on, noting that it fit surprisingly well. Though a bit large around the middle, the length was almost perfect.

When Lorne stood, he swayed on his feet, groaning as his battered muscles and joints, stiff from disuse, protested, and she took an involuntary step forward. He put a hand out to stop her. "No! I'm okay. Back hurts and I'm dizzy, but I'll be fine." He took several deep breaths to steady himself then walked into the bathroom and closed the door.

~~O~~

Shannon didn't know what to make of him now. By that action he'd shown himself to be honorable, true to his word. If he continued to demonstrate that he could be relied upon, she'd think about turning him loose. Botany, his head back in the window, snorted at her as if he could read her thoughts as she also considered how Lorne's firm backside had looked so enticing covered in denim. She shot the horse a look which he naturally ignored.

The door opened and Lorne stood in the doorway holding onto the doorknob and the jamb, his eyes closed waiting for another wave of dizziness to subside. Again she resisted going to his aide, deciding to wait just a little while longer before freeing him.

Without being told, he went back to the bed, covered himself with the sheet and blanket then snapped the cuff around his left wrist, one eyebrow raised, his blue eyes twinkling in amusement. When he smiled, the skin around his eyes crinkled, his cheeks dimpling just as she knew they would. Her breath caught in her throat because it made him even more attractive than when she had originally seen him through the viewfinder of her camera. Boyish. And handsome, almost cute, like a puppy.

And in that moment, she felt her body changing, the numbness that had been a part of her for so long she seldom thought about how it was before beginning to dissipate. Not speaking, she set the gun on the floor against the doorjamb and returned to the kitchen where she made him a sandwich to go with the soup. He was all muscle, his body requiring more substantive nourishment than the soup would provide.

She loaded the food, a steaming pot of tea and a mug onto a serving tray and carried it into the bedroom. Lorne had let his head fall back against the headboard exposing his neck telling her he was comfortable with his surroundings, that he trusted her even if she didn't give it back. Clearing her throat, she waited until he'd shifted more upright then set the tray over his lap, retreating immediately to the door, scooping up the key on her way.

"You're not gonna make me eat alone, are you?"

Not wanting to show now nervous he'd suddenly made her, she nodded. "'Course not." She returned with a bowl and mug on a folding TV tray. Dragging the rocker to just inside the door, she sat down and began to eat her soup, not looking at him.

"Sorry to put you to so much trouble."

Shrugging, she sipped her tea. "No worries. You'll be gone soon enough."

"You're Australian."

"Maybe that's 'cause you're in Australia, mate." She peeked at him from under her long dark lashes, holding in a sigh that he didn't even remember traveling from America to a country thousands of miles away and in another hemisphere. "So, what gave it away? The accent? The kangaroos? Or was it the vegemite sandwich ya had for dinner last night?" His look of disgust startled a laugh out of her, the sound of it strange in a place that hadn't heard laughter in years.

"You didn't!"

She shivered with revulsion. "Mum gave it to us for lunch most weekends. Can't abide it." Botany stuck his head back in the open window, his nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air. "Go on with ya, boy. You were fed this morning."

Lifting the bread, Lorne extracted a slice of tomato, offering it to the horse. He took it with his lips, not even coming close to biting his fingers.

"Oh, you've done it now." Her voice held mild amusement.

Lorne's expression turned alarmed. "It won't make him sick, will it?"

"No. The cheeky bugger loves tomatoes. Now you'll have him hanging about every time you eat looking for a handout."

Lorne grinned. "No worries. I love horses. Wanted one as a kid, but we lived in the city."

"What city?"

"Ah…not sure. It's near the water though. I think I used to surf. And I have a sister." She looked at him when he announced that he'd come across another memory, but didn't respond. Just sipped her tea. "What about _your_ family?"

The light that had started to glow in the depths of her eyes dimmed. "Don't have one."

"Sorry. Didn't mean to pry."

She shrugged one shoulder and stood. "I'm not asking questions t' get to know ya better. Just trying t' see what you do and don't remember."

He nodded and when he shifted in the bed, his stomach clenched. Not from the food, but from the vertigo that once again made him squeeze his eyes shut and groan.

"You okay, Lorne?"

"I…uh, yeah. Just dizzy." Lifting the tray with his free hand, he set it off to the side as far away as he could so she'd be able remove it without feeling threatened. He didn't know what made her so wary of others, but refused to add to it.

~~O~~

Taking the tray to the kitchen, she put the dishes in the sink, thinking about the way he'd behaved since awakening. His actions spoke of someone with a moral code that he held fast to, especially in how he dealt with women. He had sensed her wariness and reacted in a way designed to set her more at ease. Cuffing himself to the bed again without being told to had gone a long way to lessen the anxiety. That he hadn't done it in a calculated manner said much about his character, causing her to rethink her approach.

Briefly.

Still, he was a stranger and she a single woman with only a horse and an assortment of weapons for protection. She'd been taking care of herself for years without help. But she knew she'd never be able to defend herself against a seasoned warrior.

But…

There was just something about this man that had started to work its way under her defenses. He'd been effortlessly charming and she'd almost given in. Almost.

"Shannon?"

She wiped her hands on a towel and returned to the bedroom. Botany had gone off on one of his horsey quests leaving Lorne on his own with no one to talk to. One time, the bay had returned with a small mob of kangaroos, both females with joeys still in the pouch. She'd fed them for a while then they'd moved on.

She'd heard the two of them having a conversation with Lorne doing most of the talking. And in her experience, people who talked to animals expecting an answer weren't overly concerned with what others thought of them. It showed compassion and caring. If they cared that much about animals, they had to have consideration for humans. It also showed that they were just as happy spending their time with a pet as with a person.

"Yeah?"

"It's kinda cold in here. Mind closing the window?" He jiggled the metal around his wrist. "I'd've done it myself but…" She went to the window, making sure it was all the way to the bottom then pulled the curtains over it blocking out some of the light. He scooted down in the bed, the covers pulled up to his neck. "I know you won't believe this, but the handcuffs aren't necessary. I'm _not_ going to hurt you."

Using every ounce of willpower she had to keep from blushing, she just stared at him as though he hadn't spoken. "I'll light a fire."

~~O~~

_I__'__ll __light __a __fire._

She'd said it as though it had been her own idea. Not that Lorne cared as long as the room warmed up. It didn't take her long to get the fire started, the heat from it, and the concussion making him drowsy.

The scent of the burning wood brought with it another memory. The laughing face of a girl swam into his vision. In this vision he saw a much younger version of himself than the face he'd seen in the mirror over the bathroom sink. Together, he and the girl were using long sticks taken from the back yard to toast marshmallows over a blazing fire in a brick fireplace while a dog lounged between them hoping for a handout. Behind them, a pad in her lap, a charcoal pencil scratching over the page, sat a woman who could only be their mother.

He couldn't say how he knew that the sketch she'd been making was of him and his younger sister, or how he knew that it had hung on the wall near his mother's bed long after she'd passed away.

The thought that his mother was gone made his eyes sting with unshed tears. He rubbed a hand down his face suddenly overcome with fatigue and memories that came and went in random order. Before long, he'd fallen asleep again, his dreams filled with images, people and places he almost remembered though he couldn't recall the names of.

~~O~~

Lorne, his sleep restless, had kicked off the covers. Despite the warmth from the fire, he shivered his body twitching as he dreamt.

Shannon picked up the blanket and draped it over him again, tucking it up around his neck. Returning to the kitchen, she took down a plate and arranged a few cookies on it. Pulling a small thermos from under the sink, she filled it with hot coffee then carried both into the bedroom, setting them on the bedside table closest to him.

His dreams must have changed because now his face was relaxed, almost serene, his body still except for his breathing, his chest rising and falling underneath the cotton of the shirt she'd given him to wear. Letting her subconscious lead her, she reached out a hand to brush at a lock of dark hair that had fallen across his forehead. Without meaning to, her fingers trailed lightly over his cheek, down into the small crease that was the home of the dimple on that side, his beard tickling just enough to make her draw in a sharp breath. Snatching her hand away, she strode quickly through the house, out the front door, across the yard and into the barn, slamming the door behind her.

Donning her safety gear, she powered up the sander, and began cleaning the parts of her next piece. It had been commissioned by the city council of Winterville, the nearest town. If by "near" one meant it was almost a full day's ride by horseback just to reach your closest neighbor who would then give you a lift into town that took another two hours. Or you could just take a helicopter or small plane like the one Lorne had been flying that was now a burnt and twisted mass of metal lying on the shore of Lake Dungalee.

Shannon went to work with a vengeance, determined to eradicate the longing that Lorne had awakened within her.

~~O~~

Lorne awoke suddenly, unsure of where he was at first. He yawned, rubbing the grit from one eye then the other. Swiping a hand down his cheek told him he hadn't shaved in several days. _Not __exactly __according __to __the __regs._ Flexing his left hand, slightly numb and still cuffed to the bedpost, he rolled his shoulders and scratched his chest, the reboot of his Swiss cheese brain complete so that he now remember where he was.

He also remembered his hostess. Shannon.

Her dark eyes held a perpetual sadness that the bits of humor they exchanged hadn't dispelled. Despite that, or maybe because of it, she was an attractive woman. Make that beautiful. He could tell she was smart and kindhearted or she'd have left him next to his crashed plane to die. And creative. Jiggling the cuffs, he grinned wryly at how easily she'd managed to handle him.

He was a soldier. Yes, he did remember that at least, felt the material of his uniform, saw himself shrugging into a TAC vest, zipping the closure and attaching his weapon to the strap around his neck. He remembered the names of his team, Reed, Sullivan and Coughlin. When he thought of the last name, he chuckled. The man was always getting into a weird predicament he couldn't get himself out of. He had the idea that one such incident involved cats though the exact nature eluded him.

Others floated in and out of focus bringing with them the impulse to put the faces down on paper before he lost them. The compulsion was so strong that he reached over to the bedside table and opened the drawer, searching for a pad and pencil. His questing hand found both, dropping them triumphantly onto his lap.

He also noticed the cookies and thermos. After pouring himself a cup of the hot beverage and taking a bite of a cookie, he steadied the pad on his lap as best he could and began drawing. A few minutes later, he stopped to consider what he'd done and found that his subconscious had taken over.

He hadn't sketched his team or the man with dark hair that stuck up randomly all over his head and whom he now knew to be his commanding officer. Not a slightly balding man with a perpetual scowl. Not even the woman whose face floated in and out of his thoughts leaving him with a feeling of sadness, as if they'd once been a couple but now were not.

No. He'd drawn Shannon. In it, she was asleep in the rocking chair, one hand resting on the shotgun across her lap and the other over her heart as if she were unsure that it would continue beating without constant vigilance. One of her pigtails lay along her shoulder, the other hanging straight down, the end reaching her breast.

He sketched Shannon again, this time by design. In this one, her dark eyes were sorrowful, yet filled with determination as she held the shotgun in capable hands and pointed it at the exact area of his body that would cause the most damage.

And he had no doubts that she could accomplish whatever it was she set out to do.

Whatever the source of the sadness, he hoped that he'd one day he could wipe it away and he'd be able to see the happy, joyful woman buried deep inside. With a start, he wondered where that thought had come from.

Finishing off the coffee and cookie, he scooted down and let sleep take him again. He awoke some time later to the smell of food cooking and Shannon standing at the foot of the bed, the shotgun still in hand.

"Finally. Thought I was gonna have to dump cold water on you to get ya up."

Lorne rubbed his eyes again, pushed the covers off and sat up against the headboard. "Sorry."

"No need to be. You've got a concussion. Won't kill you to sleep it off."

She tossed him the key to the handcuffs and took two steps back while he unlocked himself and stood. Again, the dizziness came over him though he noted that it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been, was it just this morning? It seemed longer. He was used to working _and_ playing hard, at least that's how he remembered it. Sitting around just wasn't something he cared to do with so many enemies to fight.

_Enemies?_

Startled at this new information, he schooled his features into a bland mask as he went into the bathroom. He attended to the needs of his body, washed his hands and face then returned to the bedroom. As he reached for the circle of metal preparing to snap it around his wrist again, she stopped him with a word.

"Don't." Sitting with his legs off the side of the bed, he gave her a puzzled frown. "You'll need both hands to eat dinner. Which has been ready for over an hour, by the way."

She left the room, returning shortly with the same tray she'd used to serve him breakfast, setting it over his lap then retreating once again. Though she didn't pick it up, the shotgun was near enough that it kept him from thinking about escape. Not that he'd betray her trust in that way. "Not joining me?"

"I've already eaten."

"Oh. Sorry." One side of her mouth lifted in a half-smile drawing his attention to the fact that her lower lip was slightly fuller than the upper. He thought about how her mouth would feel and taste against his, swallowing her gasp of delight as he drew that bottom lip into his mouth and swept his tongue over its softness.

"Stop apologizing."

Her words, said with just a hint of annoyance, pierced the bubble of arousal that had begun to stir within him and all he could do was nod, glad for the tray and blanket covering his body's reaction. He finished his tea and wiped his mouth, laying the cloth napkin on the tray.

Shannon took the tray, stared at him for about twenty seconds, an intensely thoughtful expression on her features that he was at a loss to interpret. He saw it in her eyes when she came to a decision and a moment later, she turned her back on him and calmly left the room.

When a cat turns her back on you, it is an act of disdain. But when a human turns her back on you, it is an act of _trust_.

He heard her in the kitchen stacking the dishes in the sink. The water came on briefly then off again telling him that she had no plans to wash them tonight. He was just reaching for the pad he'd slipped back into the drawer when she came to the doorway of his room and pulled the door shut. In her right hand had been the shotgun. A moment later he heard another door open and shut, immediately followed by the snick of a lock being engaged.

**TBC**


	3. A New Page

**Turning the Page**

**Chapter 3**

**A New Page**

Over the course of the next few days, Shannon and Lorne fell into a sort of routine. He would sleep most of the day while she worked in the barn or the greenhouse, went for a hike or took Botany for a ride. Alone since Steven had gone, she didn't mind that her guest wasn't pulling his share of the load. At least not yet.

With that thought, she wondered what it would be like to have someone around all the time. She hadn't been into town in over a year and that was only to see the doctor when she'd had pains in her abdomen. Adhesions had developed following the car accident and surgery to repair her injuries. Two days later she'd returned to Blueberry Hill, much to the doctor's dismay, allowing herself to rest only a week before resuming normal activities.

Henry brought her supplies but not on a regular schedule. She'd come in from working all day in the barn to find he'd filled her freezer, cabinets and refrigerator. Cat food and other non-food items were left on the kitchen table while horse feed was stacked against the outside of Botany's stable.

Lorne's concussion was her biggest concern. It and the injury on his arm would need to heal before he tried to do anything more strenuous than sleep, sit around and watch DVDs or draw. After discovering his artistic side quite by accident she'd given him one of her sketch pads, a few charcoal pencils and a set of colored pencils. More than once she'd found him on the porch or sofa asleep, the pad in his lap or laying on his chest and a pencil tucked over his ear with the rest sticking out of the breast pocket of his shirt.

A few times she'd found her cats curled up on his chest or cuddled against his side. It made her smile and shake her head because the little buggers seldom did so with _her_ unless they wanted something. Usually food.

Now that she'd seen him in her husband's clothes a few times, she realized how different the two men were and it didn't bother her as much. Lorne was fair where Steven had been dark. He was military and Steven very much not. They had similar body shapes, but while Lorne was all muscle, Steven had been not so lean due to the nature of his work.

Smiling fondly at Steven's memory for the first time, she pushed thoughts of her husband, and Lorne, away. Welding needed all of her concentration or it could be disastrous, both for herself and the outcome of the piece.

~~O~~

Awakening from a dream in which the woman he cared about told him over and over again that she loved someone else, Lorne sat up on the sofa, elbows on his knees and his head in both hands. Looking up when Flash meowed inquiringly, he pushed a hand through his hair then passed that same hand over the cat's back making it arch, a loud purr filling the cool air. Suzie rushed to get her share and he obliged her.

Suddenly, Flash took off running, Suzie hot on her trail. They circled the room twice, the second time Flash bounced off his stomach then together they dove out through the cat door. He'd have thought it was the nighttime crazies, but it was still daylight. But then again, they were _cats_. Crazy's in the job description. The first time either of them had seen him, they'd both given him a look that said, "Whoa, _dude!_ Is there a _name_ for what's wrong with you?" Not long after that they'd decided he was an acceptable addition to their environment, climbing all over him whenever they wanted to. And he let them.

Now that the cats were gone, he picked up the sketch pad. When he let his subconscious guide his hand, more memories surfaced than when his conscious brain was involved. He began to draw the woman from his dream filling in details with the colored pencils. Gray uniform, blonde hair and a look of adoration in her light brown eyes. Below that he'd drawn clasping hands, one male and the other female with a diamond sparkling on the left ring finger, again not knowing why he'd done so. He compared his hands to the one in the sketch. They didn't match.

He was still staring at what he'd drawn, trying to sort out his emotions when Shannon came in. Laying the pad aside, he stood, greeting her with a smile. "Done for the day?" Once she was seated he sat down again.

With the windows still open, the light breeze brought the scents of the outdoors and perspiration to him. A unique combination that he identified with her. Often she would go to shower immediately, locking the door behind her. But she _was_ beginning to trust him and he was determined not to let her down.

Though she hadn't invited him into her work area, he knew she spent most of the day welding and shaping metal into designs churned up by her imagination. Smaller examples of her art perched here and there around the living room covered with dust. On the dark wood mantel were framed photos, Shannon alone at various ages, with an older couple, obviously her parents, or with friends. Other photos lay face down, also covered with dust that hadn't been disturbed in some time. His curiosity had almost gotten the best of him, but he controlled the impulse. That trust thing again.

She flopped down in the rocker, her legs stretched out in front of her. "Too right. This piece is just not coming together the way I want it to."

One side of his mouth lifted in a rueful grin. "Been there. I started a painting of the incredible view from near my quarters. Never finished it."

Shannon pushed back until she was sitting up. "Why not?"

The smile faded. "Someone…died."

"A friend?"

Nodding, Lorne flipped the pad over so his most recent sketch was face down. "Shannon, I have the feeling that I should _be_ somewhere, that it's important. Urgent." Out of the corner of his eye he could tell she was interested though she tried not to show it. "Hope you don't mind. I had a look around and didn't see a telephone."

"Don't have one."

"Cell?"

"Nope. No short wave either."

"How do you communicate with the outside world?" She had told him just how far they were from town.

"Leave a note for Henry." Pulling her boots off, she set them to the side, wiggling her sock covered toes in the deep pile of the area rug in front of the sofa. "He brings the supplies from town. Usually comes when I'm working or hiking. Puts everything away and sends the invoice to the accountant."

Lorne nodded. He'd found just such a note when he went foraging at lunchtime. He'd made them each a sandwich then ate them both when she hadn't appeared.

_Double up! _

The words warmed him at the same time he felt bad for putting Shannon to all the hassle and expense of taking care of him. He also knew for a fact that she'd be insulted if he offered to compensate her for her trouble. And that bothered him even more.

Somehow, he didn't know when it had happened, he'd come to know her well enough to gauge her moods and thoughts the moment she stepped into the room. And when she looked at him with that all-knowing stare, he knew those black-as-night eyes could see right to the heart of him as well, as if he were an open book, even if there were blank paragraphs on some of the pages.

And she _had_ to know he was attracted to her in the most basic and primal way. Probably why she always sat in the rocker, never on the sofa next to him when they watched a movie. In fact, once he was able to do so himself, she stopped tending his injuries. It was both a good _and_ a bad thing. Good because he didn't have to endure the assault on his senses every time she touched him. Bad for the same reason. He missed her touch, gentle and warm…and so easy to mistake for something more.

A bell rang and Lorne pushed off the sofa.

"What's that?"

"Dinner. By the time you're done showering, it'll be ready." Shannon's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. He reached out a finger, using it to close her gaping mouth then point over her shoulder. "Go."

~~O~~

Undressing in the bathroom, Shannon stared at herself in the full length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. Out of habit she'd locked both it and the bedroom door. As she pulled off her socks, the last time Steven had cooked for her swam to the forefront of her memories as she stepped under the water, and for once she didn't push it away…

"_Steven?" Shannon followed the smell of cooking to the condo's kitchen where she found her husband just closing the oven. He wore a pair of baggy cargo shorts, a T-shirt and a frilly pink apron that his business partner had given him as a joke on his last birthday when he'd found out that Steven did most of the cooking. The joke was on Tony though because his best buddy since grade school wore it every time he cooked. He looked up, a loving smile of greeting replacing the one of intense concentration._

_She rounded the island and gave him a lingering kiss hello. "Mmm. Smells good. Shepherd's pie?"_

"_Uh-huh. Made with lamb because…"_

"…_you were feeling a bit sheepish today?" Rolling her eyes, she headed for the bedroom. _

"_How was class?" He raised his voice to be heard as his wife disappeared around the corner._

"_Uninspiring. Those kids seem to think my class is-what did they call it, a slider?"_

_His laughter mixed with the sound of cabinets opening and closing followed by the clink of dishes, silverware and glasses as Steven set the table. "They'll find out the truth soon enough, my love. What about your project?"_

"_Likewise. Just can't get started." She returned to the kitchen where he was spooning generous servings into bowls. A tossed salad and a bottle of Coonawara Cabernet Sauvignon accompanied the meal. The wine wasn't a perfect match for the flavor of the lamb and vegetables, but neither one cared as it was their favorite having been served at their wedding._

_Steven, held her chair then seated himself beside her at the bar counter of the kitchen's island. "Eat, and don't worry about it for now. Your muse will eventually show you the way, just as she always does."_

_Looking __in to __his __brown __eyes, __she __knew __it __was __true. __She __took __his __hand, __her __fair __skin __contrasting __sharply __with __his __much __darker __coloring. __His __skin __was __the __color __of __coffee __with __just __a __dollop __of __cream __added. __He __was __just __a __few __inches __taller __than __she __and __had __been __a __bit __on __the __chubby __side __when __they __married, __but __had __recently __lost __weight. __And __inside __that __placid-looking __exterior __lived __the __mind __that __had __conceived __of __and __executed, __with __Tony__'__s __help, __the __world__'__s __biggest __selling __video __game __series, _Mega-Sphere_. __Each __new __version __sold __out __within __the __first __week __of __release __making __his __company __the __highest __grossing __in __the __industry._

"_How's the game coming?" Shannon sipped her wine noting that Steven looked tired, more so than usual._

_He flashed her a delighted grin. "Finally worked out the last bug. Tony's taking it to the testers this weekend." He sighed and rubbed his forehead._

_Touching him on the arm, she waited for him to look up. "You okay?"_

"_Tired. Been working too hard these last few months."_

"_Maybe you should see a doctor."_

_Taking her hand, he brought it to his lips. "I'll make an appointment this week. Promise."_

…and he had. But Steven's illness had been too far advanced for the treatments to cure. He'd died a few months later, just five weeks before their second anniversary.

~~O~~

Lorne opened the oven as the bedroom door closed behind Shannon. He felt better today, much more energetic. Definitely an improvement over the day he'd awakened handcuffed to the bed. But it only served to make him apprehensive, like he should be going somewhere, doing something.

With nothing to do but sketch, watch movies, take solitary walks and eat, the edginess had pushed him into taking the liberty of going to the greenhouse to do some gardening. Fresh vegetables ripe for picking had given him the idea to cook.

A flash of memory came to him, his mother, sister and he working together to get their back yard ready for guests who would be coming for their annual Labor Day barbeque. Grinning, he remembered his dad standing over the grill in an apron that said "Captain of the Grill." It was funny because his dad was a Sergeant Major in the Marines.

His grin faded. A few months after this particular memory, his dad had died in service to his country, giving him the origin of the tattoo on his left arm at last. This meant that _he_ was in the Air Force. It also meant that they had to be looking for him. Or maybe not. He had the feeling that he hadn't been on active duty at the time of the crash, that he'd been on leave. If so, wouldn't the Australian authorities be looking for him? And if he didn't turn up at his base on the day he was due back he'd be listed as AWOL.

Shannon came back into the room stopping his internal musings, or rather, putting them on hold for the moment. To be accurate, nearly every thought came to a halt when he saw her walking toward him. She was dressed as always in jeans and a sweater, but there was something different this time.

Her hair was damp and loose around her shoulders instead of the usual braids, curling as it dried. The turtleneck sweater in a shade of pink that complimented her fair skin brought a sparkle to her dark eyes he'd never seen before.

Smiling, he set the casserole dish on a trivet in the center of the table then pulled out a chair, pushing it in when she was seated. He took the chair to her left, scooped a moderate helping onto a plate and placed it in front of her. She picked up her fork, waiting while he served himself.

"Smells great."

Lorne watched Shannon take a bite. "How's it taste?"

"It's good. Really good." Shannon sipped her hot tea while again looking at him through those long dark lashes. "Where'd ya learn to cook?"

Her question brought back the memory of his mother being gone. He used his fork to push the food around on his plate, his head bent to hide the sadness he was feeling all over again. "My mother. She's…gone now."

"I'm sorry." She wrapped her slender fingers around his palm giving his hand a squeeze, her eyes sympathetic.

He gripped her hand in return, drawing strength from her and giving it back. Tendrils of warmth traveled up his arm, spreading across his chest, filling him with the feeling that they belonged together and that every night of their life would be just like this. Cozy, warm and filled with…

The amorous feeling disintegrated, like sticking a pin in a balloon, when Shannon burped…loudly! Her face turned an attractive shade of pink as she snatched her hand away to cover her mouth. "Oh, I am _so_ sorry."

Chuckling, Lorne pick up his mug and saluted her with a wry grin. "That was _very_ impressive, almost a ten and sure to be a winner in any belching contest."

"A ten? Really?"

"Really."

Resting her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand, she encouraged him to continue. "You ever win?"

"Once, when I was twelve. I'd just finished off a two liter bottle of Dr. Pepper at the school fundraising bazaar. Held that belch for _thirty-two_ seconds."

Her eyes danced with merriment though she tried to look serious about a silly subject. "So what're the rules?"

Lorne leaned back in his chair, tossing his napkin on the table next to his plate. "Well, the first and most _important_ rule is women automatically get five points."

"Why?"

"Just for being women."

"Isn't that rather sexist?"

Shrugging an apology that wasn't really an apology, he continued. "The final score is based on several criteria." He looked thoughtful as he ticked them off on his fingers. "Creativity, duration and decibel level."

"What about the number? That count for anything?"

He shook his head, mirroring her posture, elbow on the table, chin in hand. "Nope." Shannon stayed as she was, eyes locked on his, and in that moment he felt something change between them despite the irreverent nature of their conversation. Or maybe it was because of it. He couldn't tell. All he knew was that he had the nearly overwhelming compulsion to kiss her, even began to lean toward her. Her lips parted as if in invitation, but before they took their relationship to this new level, they were interrupted by the cats bursting onto the scene. Flash jumped up in Lorne's lap while Suzie landed on the far end of the table skidding to a stop near the casserole dish.

Both cats sniffed the air, meowing in harmony until Lorne and Shannon relented and gave them each a serving in their bowls near the laundry room door before carrying the dishes to the sink.

Without a word, Shannon set about washing them, spurning his offers to help.

~~O~~

Shannon finished wiping down the table, pushed the chairs in and tossed the small towel into the sink. She and Lorne had avoided looking at each other or speaking since they'd shared a moment that could have turned into much more if the cats hadn't intruded.

She _had_ wanted him to kiss her, had thirsted for the touch of his lips on hers, but there between them was the fact that he didn't remember who he was, not really. Just his first name and some random memories from before he'd fallen into her life. If they started something, who's to say he wouldn't eventually remember his old life and want to go back to it? And what if he also remembered having someone, a girlfriend or a wife, waiting for him to come home?

She'd been happy with her life before he came into it. Or at least content.

Okay, so that was a lie. But right now, as her body hummed with arousal, it was one she could live with.

She and Lorne headed to their rooms at the same time, and she barely managed not to slam the door in an effort to shut out the feelings he'd brought to the surface so effortlessly. Leaning against the door, she took a few deep breaths before changing into her pajamas and climbing into bed.

Sleep called to her, and just as she succumbed she realized she hadn't locked the door.

~~O~~

Standing in the doorway of his room, Lorne listened for the click of the lock that always followed Shannon's entry into her room, surprised when it never came. If it meant what he thought it meant then he wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight.

Just as he was closing his door, the cats slipped into the room and made themselves comfortable on his bed. Well, maybe it was _their_ bed and _he_ was the trespasser. Either way, he wouldn't be sleeping on the couch tonight. Getting into the sweat pants and long sleeved T-shirt that were his pajamas, he carefully moved both girls out of his way and lay down.

He'd just gotten comfortable when Flash walked over him to curl up in front of his stomach and Suzie found a place behind his knees. Before long, all three were sleeping soundly.

~~O~~

Two nights later, a noise from the living room awoke Shannon, the red numbers of her clock telling her it was after two in the morning. Though it wasn't the first time she'd heard Lorne moving around at night she wondered, not for the first time, what he could possibly be doing up at all hours. Tonight she'd find out.

Her sock covered feet padded softly to the door. She eased it open and looked out. Lorne was standing in the middle of the living room, his head turning side to side as if he didn't know where he was.

Her heart clenched at the sight of him in clothing that had once belonged to her husband. He and Steven didn't look anything alike, but with the light from the moon shining through the window illuminating only his torso and thighs, he could have been the man she'd married just a few short years ago.

Careful not to get too close, she reached out a hand pulling back just before her fingers would have brushed his shoulder. She was attracted him, her body telling her so each and every time she touched him, whether she was tending to his injuries, brushing his hair off his forehead while he slept or by accident. If she did so now, even with the material covering his warm skin, she wouldn't sleep the rest of the night. She could tell he felt the same way and that only made him more difficult to resist.

"Lorne?"

He turned toward her, his face falling into an unreadable mask, his back straightening, and the tone of his voice becoming formal, at odds with the several days growth of beard on his handsome face. "Colonel Carter, ma'am. I didn't see you there."

_Colonel __Carter?_ A superior officer he had frequent contact with, obviously, maybe even his current commander. "What's going on?"

His expression turned confused. "I…I seem to have gotten myself turned around, ma'am. I can't find the Gate Room."

"Gate Room?"

"My team is scheduled for a make-nice on M10-225."

"Make-nice?"

"A meet and greet with potential new allies."

She had no idea what a Gate Room was or why he'd need to be there for a "mission." And why would _he_ be negotiating with allies? Wasn't that done by diplomats? "It's been postponed. Take the rest of the day off."

He nodded brusquely. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you." At the bedroom door, he waved his hand over the right side.

Puzzled by this behavior, she reached around him and pushed on the partially open door, staying with him until he reached the bed. Lowering her voice, she spoke softly. "Get in bed." At these words, his entire demeanor changed. His posture slouched, eyes rolling with an exasperated huff.

"Mo-om! Please! I'm too _old_ to be tucked in."

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes as well now that he thought she was his mother, she pointed. "_Go_ to _bed_."

"O-_kay_."

"And I'm _not_ your mum. If I was, I'd paddle your bum for gettin' outta bed in the middle of the night."

With a sheepish grin, one she knew he'd used frequently to try to get out of trouble or to his way, he lifted the covers and climbed under. "Mom?"

She turned around at the door. "Yeah?"

"Can I have some water please?"

Huffing at him, she nodded. "Fine. Then you gotta go to sleep."

"'Kay."

Returning shortly with a cold glass of water, she huffed again because he'd gone back to sleep, both cats in bed with him. She put it in the refrigerator and returned to her own room, making a mental note to ask about the odd things he'd said in the morning. Oh, she'd realized he was sleepwalking, but hadn't known what to do about it beyond going along with whatever he said.

She stirred the embers in the fireplace making the fire flare to life again then went to the closet and pulled a sealed plastic bag from the top shelf. Removing the contents, she spread it over the bed then slipped under the covers, the handmade quilt Steven had given her for their first anniversary pulled up to her chin.

**TBC**


	4. A Body without a Soul

**A/N:**Many thanks to ladygris for her Beta services. (Didn't do this in the last chapter. Thorry!)

And thanks so much to WhyteWytch for the use of something that I snurched from her off the FlyBoy Thunk Forum.

Gracias,

~Sandy

**Turning the Page**

**Chapter 4**

**A Body without a Soul**

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes with one hand, Lorne scratched his chest with the other. Or rather he tried. Warm fur and weight on his chest stopped his short-lived thought about going back to sleep. Opening his eyes, he saw Flash stretched out as far as she could go, her head under his chin and her tail twitching against the top of one thigh. Looking farther down, Suzie rested comfortably between his splayed knees. Both were purring lightly and though he didn't want to disturb them, his bladder had other ideas.

Being subtle never worked with cats so he used both hands to push Flash off to the side. She gave him a sleepy glare, yawned, pounced on his stomach then went to sit on the foot of the bed, her back to him while she cleaned one paw.

Suzie was a little harder to move. She steadfastly refused to get up forcing him to scoot up to the headboard and pull his legs from under the covers to get out of bed. He opened the door and was nearly knocked down as both cats shot between his legs in their haste to leave. Grinning, he shut the door again and went into the bathroom. "Women can be _so_ fickle."

~~O~~

The cats ran out through the cat door, returning shortly to sit impatiently by their dishes waiting for breakfast to be served. Shannon filled their bowls then went back to the stove to stir the oatmeal she was making for her and Lorne.

The door opened, his sneakered footsteps sounding loud in the quiet of the morning. She listened as he opened the refrigerator and took out the bottle of milk. "The water you wanted is in there too."

"Pardon?"

"You asked for a glass of water last night. It's there." She pointed with the wooden spoon she was using to stir. The expression on his face changed to one of understanding as he turned away from her.

"Not again!"

"Not again what?" Now she was concerned.

"Sleepwalking."

"Too right you were. Thought I was your mum at the end."

He grinned sheepishly. "Sorry."

Spooning the oatmeal into bowls, she watched him pour two glasses of milk and carry them to the table. "No worries. Before that you thought I was someone name Colonel Carter."

His eyebrows drew together as he tried to place the name. A brief vision of blonde hair and blue eyes swam into his vision. "Sounds familiar. What else did I say?"

"Let's see." She thought for a moment. "You mentioned something called the Gate Room and a diplomatic mission. Thought you were a soldier, not a mouthpiece."

~~O~~

The tidbits of information Shannon had just given him tickled a place in his brain then stopped, like a butterfly staying just out of reach of the net he was trying to catch it with. He stood abruptly, going into his bedroom and returning to the table with his sketch pad. Flipping through the pages, he came to the face of a woman. Disappointment replaced the excitement.

"You okay, Lorne?"

"Yeah. It's just…I thought I had a name to go with one of the faces, but when I look at her, I see brown eyes, not blue."

"Who's that?"

"Uh…" He turned the pad so she could see the sketch of the blonde woman in the gray uniform, Shannon scooting her chair closer so that their shoulders touched. "I…" he searched his memory for something more than what he'd drawn, "…she chose Rodney over me."

"Rodney?"

A small wry grin turned up the corners of his mouth. "He's a scientist on the expedition. I threatened to shoot him once. Well, more than once." He flipped the pages, Shannon stopping him when he reached one of a man in a black uniform with a genial expression and hair that stuck up all over his head. He was sitting, his posture relaxed, holding a bottle of beer. Next to him was a fierce-looking man with a beard and dreadlocks, also holding a beer.

Shannon's eyes popped. "Whoa! I could make a _killing_ selling hair gel and combs on your base." Chuckling, Lorne turned the page, waiting for her reaction to the next drawing. "Hmm. Maybe not so much." This last one was of a balding man with glasses. "Who's this?"

Lorne's grin faded and his shrug caused the shoulder touching Shannon's to move against hers. The strength of the sensations that came just from that simple and innocent touch disconcerted him. "Don't know." He slid the pad over in front of her silently allowing her to see the people and things he recalled. "Think I'll take a walk."

And before she could protest, provided she'd wanted to, he was gone.

~~O~~

Shannon went to the window and watched Lorne stop at the stable to pet Botany. The horse rubbed his head against the hand that passed over his cheek and down his neck several times before Lorne abruptly turned and moved out of sight around the far end of the greenhouse. Botany watched him longingly and she knew he wanted to go with Lorne on his walk. She might have followed but knew he needed time to be alone away from her, away from the small cluster of buildings that he'd been confined to for the last three weeks so he could think.

She returned to the table but didn't sit, just stood flipping the pages, taking in the faces churned up by his memories, returning again and again to the one of the blonde with brown eyes. This was the woman who had broken Lorne's heart? Toward the back she found the same woman leaning intimately against a man, his arm around her and their heads close together. The point of view was from the back so she couldn't see their faces, just part of a bridge, water and some cliffs in the distance.

The next page startled a small squeak of surprise out of her. He'd drawn an explosion, bright orange and red flames filling the hallway ceiling to floor and engulfing the figure of a man. The colors were so vivid she could almost feel the heat.

Below it was a drawing of himself standing at an easel wearing a blue paint-stained shirt, the end of a paint brush covering part of his face. That they'd been drawn on the same page meant they had to be connected somehow. Had Lorne been painting instead of taking time for a friend who had later died in an explosion?

The last used page puzzled her more than Lorne himself did. Though incomplete, she made out the tall graceful spires of a city surrounded by water, two moons in the sky and what looked like a ship resting on one of the piers. It looked like something out of a science fiction movie and reminded her of something he'd said just before he left. He'd used the word "expedition" not "base."

Leaving the pad on the table with the ice cold remains of their unfinished breakfast, Shannon hurried in the direction she'd seen Lorne headed. She was a fair tracker but then his sneakers left a distinctive impression in the red sand of the desert. A few minutes later, she found him sitting on a long dead tree tossing rocks at nothing in particular.

As she approached him, he stood, picked up a rock the size of his fist, cocked his arm and threw. The rock sailed high into the sky coming down so far away she lost sight of it. "Played some football, did ya?"

He turned at her words, waiting for her to join him. "In college, I think."

Allowing her eyes to roam over his face, she smiled and reached out to take his hand. The trust he'd shown her by letting her see his memories would be rewarded. "Come with me."

~~O~~

As he stared at the red sand, ghost gum trees, low bluebush, mulga, Sturt's desert rose, rocks, and in the distance, mountains, cliffs and birds he couldn't identify, Lorne's errant memory brought another to the surface. One that involved sleepwalking.

He was holding a weapon on his CO, the man in the black uniform, insisting he was something called a Replicator. When the blonde woman arrived on the scene-he now knew her as Carter-he'd pointed the weapon at her as well. The outcome of the situation was lost, replaced by another memory.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to let it come to him on its own without him trying and failing to dig it out. Kate. Her name was Kate and she'd been a good friend. She'd died and he knew it had something to do with his sleepwalking, but what wasn't clear.

Picking up one of the larger rocks at his feet, he stood and threw it as hard as he could, watching it come down some distance away.

Having heard the crunch of her boots in the sand, Lorne wasn't startled when Shannon spoke. The same wasn't true for her intense scrutiny of his features or when she took hold of his hand. Without a word, he followed her, surprised when she led him to the workshop. He hadn't been invited and wouldn't have asked to see inside the place where she took refuge, her inner sanctum. That she was taking him there now showed the last of her wariness and paranoia had gone, replaced with the belief that he'd been telling the truth that first day when he said he'd never hurt her.

Once inside, she stood back as he took in the pieces of metal in various shapes and sizes stacked against the walls, on shelves and hanging from the ceiling. Walls lined with shelves held electrical equipment as well as tools and chemicals. A jigsaw, acetylene torch, table saw, even a chainsaw among the many much smaller devices she used in her trade glared at him for having the nerve to enter their domain. An area in the back awaited her muse to provide her with the inspiration to work with clay and still another area was dedicated to painting. All over the immense area several projects had been started, awaiting their turn to be completed.

"This is amazing." She followed him to the painting area, tubes of paint lined up on by color and shade. Blank canvasses in various sizes were stacked against the far wall with another blank one on the easel. More had been completed and were leaning against another wall. "May I?"

"Sure."

He examined several of the smaller paintings then pulled out a large one, turning into the light streaming through the window. It was of Botany at full gallop, his mane and tail streaming behind him, muscles rippling, hooves pounding the dry earth, hills and cliffs in the distance. The brush strokes were bold, daring…confident. "He's a beautiful creature."

"That he is. Had him since he was a babe. His mum passed not long after he was born. When he was just a few months old, the rancher he belonged to gave him to me in exchange for one of my pieces he admired. I have a photo, if you'd like to see." Shannon didn't wait for him to answer before taking a photo album from another shelf. Now that she'd made the decision to let him into this part of her world, she seemed eager to have him see everything at once. He followed her to an ancient love seat that sagged in the middle making them slide until they touched shoulder to knee. She opened the album over their laps flipping through the pages until she found the one she was looking for. "Here it is. It's not my best work but he loved it. We made an even swap and I think _I_ got the better deal."

The photo showed what looked like several metal girders bent and welded together so that they looked vaguely like a man doing push-ups on a slide with an enormous rock as the foundation, the highest point being about four meters above the ground. It was irreverent, almost silly, but he could see how someone else would find it eye-catching.

Without asking, he turned the pages, openly admiring her other works. He'd gotten several pages past one particular metal sculpture when he felt compelled to return to it. And just like that, it came to him. "Oh my God. You're Shannon Coyle, the artist."

~~O~~

The awe in Lorne's voice and the look of admiration as he said her name made her just a bit uncomfortable though she didn't want him to know it. Instead, she let one side of her mouth lift. "Sure of that are you?"

"Very." He flipped through the album indicating several of her other pieces. "I've been an admirer of your work for years."

"So tell me how you can remember me and…" she touched the page "…but not your last name, the year or how a Yank came to be Down Under?"

He made a sound of frustration. "Don't know."

She took the book of photographs from him and stood. "Well, at least it gives us a possible hometown for you."

"How so?"

Now that they were no longer touching along the sides of their bodies as they had been while sitting, Shannon felt chilled and had to suppress the urge to ask him to hold her. "Those pieces are on display in Las Vegas."

"Doesn't sound right. I'm sure I grew up near the water." They were standing very close together, his exhalations stirring the hairs at her temples. A moment of awkwardness crept into the air and he cleared his throat. "Ah…why don't I get out of here and let you work? I'll go let Botany out of his stall for a while."

"That's fine. Just open the gate. He'll run around and come back in a bit."

~~O~~

After turning Botany out, the bay had looked back at Lorne with sad soulful eyes as if imploring the human to join him. When he turned for the house, he heard the horse take off with an annoyed whinny. As he reached the front door, he glanced around but the cats were not in evidence. On several occasions he'd nearly been run down by them in their haste to get inside because they knew he was a soft touch when it came to passing out treats.

Inside, he worried at the revelation that he'd managed to stumble upon the secluded home of his favorite contemporary artist, Shannon Coyle. _When_ her work had come to his attention he couldn't remember. Only that he'd seen those particular metal sculptures on more than a few occasions. And it wasn't only her metal work he admired. Though he couldn't bring them to mind, he did recall that he'd seen a display of paintings with her signature in the bottom right corner. He'd even taken a brochure with him so that he could read about her.

A grunt of exasperation spread through the house as he headed for his room, taking the sketch pad from the table on the way and tossing it on the bed with more force than was necessary, the pages flapping as if in a breeze. The pad had landed in such a way that he was once again presented with the face of the woman he used to care deeply for.

_If __I __loved __her, __why __can__'__t __I __remember __her __name?_ He paced back and forth next to the bed, short irate steps. _Maybe __that__'__s __it. __Maybe __I _didn't _love __her, __at __least __not __in __the __way __a __man __loves __a __woman __he __wants __to __spend __the __rest __of __his __life __with. __But __then __why __do __I __feel __so__…_

He had no word for the way he felt when he looked at the blonde in the arms of a man who was his polar opposite in almost every way.

And the man. He turned to the page with the couple embracing and felt irritation along with excitement. Confused at the latter, he ignored it, focusing on the irritation and the fact that he didn't feel that way _just_ because she'd chosen the scientist over him. The man had been somewhat of a friend though it was a prickly kind of friendship.

The two emotions battled within him as he stood, suddenly angry. At Rodney. At the woman. And at himself for not being able to remember. Pacing from the window to the door, he ran a hand through his hair then down his cheek. Going into the bathroom, he stood in front of the mirror to look at his face, _really_ look at. He leaned on the edge of the counter turning his head side to side. His hair was slicked straight back from his forehead and he was sporting several days' growth of beard.

Searching the drawers, he found the disposable razor he'd used before. Using the hand soap, he washed and lathered his face and set about removing the hair. That done, he stuck his head under the faucet and washed the gel from it. After toweling it dry, he combed it into the style he recalled wearing, one small lock of hair hanging over his forehead no matter what he did to keep it in place.

Standing up straight, he assumed the At Attention stance. Chin up, chest out, shoulders back, stomach in, arms fixed at the side, thumb parallel to his trouser seams, head and eyes locked in a fixed forward posture. Heels together, toes apart. Staring at his reflection, the clothing he was wearing blurred and changed as if a new lens had clicked into place.

He saw himself wearing dress blues, the room around him filled with people, all eyes on a metal coffin draped with a flag, a blue cross on a field of white. As the bagpipes played, he stepped forward to take hold of one of the handles. In front of him stood his commanding officer, also in a dress uniform, and behind him a civilian. To his left, another civilian in a dark suit, behind him, a blonde woman and a tall man with dreadlocks. They lifted the coffin and carried it through a shimmering blue puddle.

Just as suddenly, the vision was gone and he was back in Australia, lost, far from everyone and everything that meant anything to him.

_That's not true and you know it. You've only been here a few weeks and it already feels more like a home than you've had since… _

Again an empty space appeared where a memory should have been, but the funeral stayed with him as he returned to the bedroom and picked up the sketch pad. Sitting on the side of the bed, he began to draw the coffin, the room of mourners, the circle with strange symbols around its edges and what looked like a pond in the middle of it.

When that was complete, he returned to the explosion and drew another, a brown haired man in a prison uniform standing in the middle of a cell, a thin blanket on the hard bench behind him. He could even hear his voice calling out, echoing slightly within the concrete walls while he and the others kept watch.

_Finally__! __It__'__s __about __bloody __time. __What __took __you __so __long?_

The accent was another dichotomy. What sort of base had he been posted to that he would be friends with a Scot? He drew the man's face again, this time staring sightlessly out at the world. His eyes roamed over the images, different yet the same, frustrated at his inability to remember his name. His friend was alive yet Lorne remembered the explosion that killed him as if it had just happened. With it came a strong sensation of loss and something he didn't expect…guilt.

_Why should I feel guilty that he died? Did he die in my place?_

If the man with the kind blue eyes had died in an explosion, how could he have been held prisoner only to be rescued more than a year later? Why was he standing inside an alcove, frozen in time, unable to see or hear what was going on around him? And why did Lorne have the feeling he'd just seen him, that they'd had dinner together recently?

Trying to put the images out of his mind, he turned to a blank page. Taking a few deep breaths to calm his pounding heart, he picked up one of the pencils and began to draw.

~~O~~

Peeking out the window, Shannon watched Lorne return to the house, hands shoved into his pockets, his right foot kicking a rock under the porch before climbing the three steps. He glanced around then down at his feet and she knew he was looking for Suzie and Flash. They had actually tripped her quite a few times before she learned to be vigilant. It hadn't taken him as long to learn the same lesson.

The door closed behind him as she opened the windows to ventilate the room, reaching for the artist's hazmat suit. She attached the welding head to the double-hose connection, slipped the welding goggles on and settled them comfortably over her eyes. Climbing the ladder, she fired up the torch, adjusted the flame and got to work joining two pieces of metal that hung from the ceiling.

She forgot about everyone and everything while working. Usually. Today she couldn't keep her mind from returning to the dejected slump of Lorne's shoulders as he went into the house and softly closed the door, admiring his restraint. In his place she would have slammed the door, thrown all her breakables at the nearest wall then gone hiking in the desert until she couldn't walk another step.

Shutting off the torch with a sharp flick of her wrist, she descended the ladder, shrugged out of her gear and hung it on the pegs set into the wall by the main door. Standing in the middle of the room, she turned in a circle looking for…something, she didn't know what.

Then her eyes fell on the blank canvas waiting patiently to be filled with shapes and color. Sitting on the love seat, she took off her boots and set them to the side, her socks shoved down inside them. Next she pulled her sweater and jeans off, discarding them with a flick of her hand. She preferred painting without the restraint of outer clothing. Most of her projects required her to wear protection. Not so with painting. And so, dressed in nothing but a white camisole and bikini panties and ignoring the cool morning air making her skin tingle, she donned the paint-stained smock that Steven had given her as a Christmas gift the year before he died.

Taking the palette from the shelf, she set it on a small table nearby. Barely pausing, she snatched up a dozen different colors of paint, setting them on the table as well. Uncapping several tubes, she squirted generous amounts onto the palette, chose a brush and began mixing until she had the exact shades she wanted.

She turned the canvas one-quarter turn so that it sat long-ways on the easel, closed her eyes and breathed deeply, savoring scenes from her memories until she came to the one she wanted. As if her hand were guided by an outside force, she touched the brush to the canvas and began to create.

~~O~~

Lorne stared at the outside of the workshop. Shannon had been inside for _hours_. At lunchtime, he'd made her a sandwich and filled the thermos with hot tea and set them on the table just inside the door in case she wanted them. A quick check a while later and he'd found the empty plate and thermos sitting on the ground outside. This time when he tried the door it had been locked. Assuming that she didn't want to be disturbed, he didn't knock.

Darkness had taken over their little corner of the world by the time she finally emerged, opening and closing the front door of the house, almost jumping as if she'd forgotten he was there.

"Hi."

"Oh. I'm late for dinner, aren't I?"

"Well, I fed Suzie, Flash and Botany. You and I are the only ones who haven't eaten yet." He was sitting in the rocker, arms crossed in annoyance, both feet on the floor pushing the rocker back and forth making it creak. "So yeah. You're _late_."

She shrugged sheepishly. "Oops."

Coming to stand in front of her, he raised one finger. "You're forgiven…this time." He gestured toward her bedroom door. "Get your shower and be at the table in five minutes or I'm feeding yours to the cats." A quick glance at the clock then, "And…go!"

The bedroom door slammed behind her making him chuckle.

~~O~~

The door had barely closed behind her as she pulled the sweater over her head. It flew through the air, hit the window and dropped to the floor, but she didn't even notice as she was too busy taking off her boots glad that she hadn't bothered to tie them or put on her socks when she dressed for the walk back to the house.

Hopping on one foot then the other, she pulled off her jeans. Next came her camisole and lastly her panties as she reached the bathroom. Turning the water on, she dived under while it was still cold, holding in a screech of shock when it hit her skin.

She didn't bother to wash her hair, just lathered her body with the vanilla brown sugar-scented shower gel, rinsed and jumped out again, only taking a moment to dry off. With no time left to choose clothing, she quickly pulled on her pajamas and a pair of warm socks to combat the shivers. Yanking door the open, she could hear Lorne counting down.

"…five…four…three…two…"

Before he could say one, she slid across the hardwood floor and into her chair, panting. "It _so_ better be worth it."

Going to the stove, he looked over his shoulder, a twinkle in his blue eyes. "It's canned soup and leftovers. I just wanted to see what you'd do."

~~O~~

Shannon stood so abruptly that her chair fell over with a crash. Lorne turned as she came toward him, her dark eyes shining with anger he hoped was feigned.

"You made me rush through my shower for _soup_ and _leftovers_?" He backed up as she stalked him around the room. "I didn't even wash my _hair!_"

Not able to keep from laughing, he glanced over his shoulder to keep from tripping as they neared the sofa. "S-sorry! I couldn't help it. I…"

"I could have eaten then taken a long hot bubble bath if that's all we were having." Shannon picked up one of the sofa pillows, punctuating each word by hitting him on the arm, the last one hitting him in the chest.

"Oh, bring it on!" He picked up the other pillow and hit her on the shoulder. She looked at the spot, slowly turning her head to look up at him, eyes wide with shock as she hit him again.

~~O~~

Watching her eyes, Lorne saw her intent before the pillow hit him. With a growl, he hit her again, and before long they were engaged in a pillow fight. Laughing so hard he could barely stand, he stepped back, his stocking feet slipping on the area rug. As he fell backward, he grabbed for some purchase to stop himself, ending up on his back with Shannon lying on top of him, their bodies pressed close together.

They were both panting, chests pushing against each other with each breath, the laughter tapering off as another emotion took its place. His gaze roamed over her face, finally coming back to her eyes as they glittered with arousal they were both feeling. Her hands came to rest on his chest as he framed her face with both hands. Lifting his head, he saw her eyes go wide. She pushed herself off of him and headed for the door.

"Shannon?" She kept going, ignoring him. Levering himself off the sofa, he caught up with her at the door, stopping her from leaving by taking her hand. "What's wrong?" She kept her face averted, a sniffling sound her only response. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…"

"It isn't _you_. It's _me_." Though she tried to pull her hand free, he refused to release her. Something had changed and he had to know if it was his fault. "Let me go." Her voice was pleading.

"You can't leave like this."

"Please, Lorne…"

"No." His tone was firm, obstinate.

"Why not?"

Though she couldn't see it, one side of his mouth lifted in rueful humor. "You're not wearing any shoes."

~~O~~

Glancing down, Shannon saw that he was right. "Oh. I…it's just…"

"Please tell me."

His voice was soft, tempting her to just tell him everything. But she couldn't. Not yet. It wasn't that she didn't trust him. She _did_, with her life. And _that_ was problem. In just the few short weeks that he'd been here, she'd come to trust him in a way she hadn't trusted anyone since Steven had died. But she just wasn't ready to completely open her heart to another. Waving her free hand at the air, she drew his attention to the fact that music was playing. "That's the song my husband and I danced to at our wedding."

She could tell from the new light in his eyes that he either hadn't known she'd been married or hadn't remembered. Given that he couldn't remember his own name or the names of his friends, she blamed the amnesia.

"I'm sorry. I…"

Shaking her head, she pushed his hands away when it appeared he was about to take her in his arms. "Not your fault." He handed her a napkin to blow her nose. "His name was Steven."

~~O~~

The revelation that she'd been married came as a shock to Lorne. He had no idea how to make this better for her. Or maybe he did. Extending his hand, he shrugged one shoulder. "Well, I'm not him. But you can pretend for a few minutes."

He waited while Shannon stared at his hand as if it would bite her. After a moment's hesitation, she took what he was offering, allowing him to gather her close.

Swaying side to side, they slowly turned in a circle. Her body, stiff at first, eventually began to relax as she leaned into him, one hand coming up to toy with the hairs at the nape of his neck. He suppressed a shiver at the sensation. Now was not the time to give into their attraction for one another. If they did, they'd both regret it in the morning because he knew she wouldn't be thinking about him. She'd be thinking about Steven.

When they _did_ finally come together in the most intimate way possible, he wanted to know who _he_ was and what he could offer her. And he wanted her to know it was _him_ she was making love with, not the husband who had abandoned her and for whom she still carried a torch.

Her head lifted from his shoulder and he gazed into her eyes once more, her hands coming up to his shoulders, lips parted in invitation. The song ended, breaking the spell as he slowly released her and took a step back. "I, uh, I should put the food away."

Shannon didn't try to stop him as he went into the kitchen and began cleaning off the table. Without a word, she went into her bedroom and softly closed the door.

**TBC**


	5. Medicine for the Soul

**A/N:** Thanks again to ladygris for her help with this chapter.

I should have mentioned it before, but the belching scene was taken almost word for word from a conversation that the author had with a male co-worker a couple of weeks ago. It started like this:

Me: You're a guy, right?

Him: Last time I checked, and I check at least three times a day. What's up?

Me: What are the rules for belching contests? (He sits down at my table and it goes from there.)

If I've forgotten to give credit where credit is due, Thorry!

~Sandy

**Turning the Page**

**Chapter 5**

**Medicine for the Soul**

In the morning, Lorne joined Shannon at the breakfast table just as he had been doing. Neither of them mentioned the night before by mutual unspoken agreement, eating in silence just as they had the first few days after she'd released him from the handcuffs.

For the next several days, they ate in silence then she would go to the workshop while he tried to find things to occupy his mind and time. He made lunch each day, as had become his habit. He'd place it on a small table taken from the shed and set next to the main entrance of the workshop just for that purpose, and then he'd knock on the door to let her know it was there. Dinner was just like breakfast, silent except for the clink of silverware against dishes and the tinkle of glassware bumping together.

On the morning of the fourth day, Lorne woke up early enough to beat Shannon to the kitchen and began making breakfast. He was tired of the silence and today he would break it or else. Not only that, but he had other things on his mind besides the Mexican Standoff. With a rueful grin he changed it to _Australian_ Standoff as he washed his hands.

If he used the amount of food remaining as a guide, then Henry was due to make an appearance any time now. There was still plenty of horse feed and food for the cats, but they'd soon run out of everything except vegetables from the greenhouse.

But that wasn't his only concern.

Every day, the feeling that he should be somewhere else grew, making him restless. He didn't want to just run out on Shannon without settling a few things between them. And though he really wanted to stay, to explore what the two of them might have together, he also knew he had to leave. When Henry arrived, he would hitch a ride to the next town, hoping by then to at least know who he should be calling to come pick him up.

As he took the ingredients for breakfast from the refrigerator and cabinets, his eyes fell on the mostly healed cut on his left arm. Something about it disturbed him, his fingers brushing over the new skin, and that brought to mind another thought.

Why hadn't anyone come looking for him? The GPS in the plane would have lead search and rescue to the crash site then to Shannon's home, yet no one had come. He was at once puzzled and relieved. The source of his relief would be joining him soon. Turning his attention to making breakfast, he let the rest go for now.

~~O~~

Shannon awoke to the sound of…nothing. Mostly because the clock said it was not even five in the morning. Tossing back the covers, she didn't even bother to change into her regular clothes. She shoved her feet into her work boots before leaving the bedroom, at the last second remembering that she no longer lived alone. Her bedroom door closed with a soft click as she tiptoed over to Lorne's door and listened for a few seconds. Satisfied that she hadn't awakened him or the cats, she hurried across the yard to the workshop, flipping on all the lights as she went.

What had awakened her from a deep sleep had been an epiphany about her current metalwork project and she wasted no time in bringing the vision to life. The acetylene torch grumbled and growled as if it were a beast coming out of hibernation. She ignored it and slipped on her welding goggles, descending into her own little world where nothing and no one mattered but her art.

~~O~~

"Shannon? Breakfast is ready," Lorne called out when she didn't come out by the time the sun was above the horizon. He rapped gently on the door and waited. Huffing, he turned the doorknob and eased the door open just enough to see if she was still asleep. Her bed was empty and unmade. This being the first time he'd ever seen her room, he took a brief moment to look around. It was furnished much like his room but with a few feminine touches and the shotgun resting against the wall under the window. After admiring the handmade quilt bunched together with the sheet and another blanket on the bed, he closed the door again.

There was only one place she could be at this hour. He grinned at the thought that he'd done the same thing in the past when struck with an idea. Covering her plate, he took it and a thermos of coffee to the workshop. He was about to place it on the table when the door opened and Shannon, dressed in her safety gear, snatched both from his hands, said a hasty, "thanks" and was gone again, the door slamming in his face.

~~O~~

Hours later, Shannon decided to take a break. Her sudden flash of inspiration had fizzled out as had breakfast. With a grumbling stomach as her guide, she headed back to the house.

Before going in, she glanced through the window and almost fell over. There on her living room floor, shirtless and wearing only a pair of sweatpants, Lorne was doing push-ups. Legs straight, palms flat on the floor, feet together. Down, pause, up, pause, down, pause, up, pause. Sweat made his skin shine as he kept a moderate pace.

Her hand on the doorknob, she felt her fingers go lax as a long sigh that was almost a moan came from her chest. He looked so…yummy she almost reached a hand up to check for drool, realizing at last why her single friends enjoyed going to the gym so much.

The besotted smile on her face changed to a snort when the cats came over to sniff him then jumped on his back, looking around as they went up and down. Even with their added weight Lorne never slowed down.

She watched until he stopped, bending one knee to the floor then using a hand on his thigh to help him stand. He reached for a towel on the low table beside him, wiping the sweat first from his face then from his chest.

Seeing him working out had been more than enough to send her female hormones raging, but when he turned in her general direction, she could see that his too large pants had slipped down just enough that they were riding low on his hips allowing his navel to peek out. Her fingers flexed, remembering those first few days when she'd had to care for him day and night, how his body had reacted to her touch though he'd been unconscious the entire time. And with that recollection came another question that she really, _really_ wanted to know the answer to.

Would he react the same if he were awake and participating, touching her as intimately as she wanted to touch him?

Not wanting to be caught staring, she returned to the workshop, but didn't go back to welding. No, this time she shed her clothes and set out her paints. When they were mixed to her satisfaction, she let her subconscious take over.

~~O~~

As Lorne began his second set of fifty push-ups, out of the corner of his eye he saw Shannon watching through the window. Though he'd seldom responded, he knew when a woman found him attractive. But Shannon, well, she was different than most other women he'd known or even made the acquaintance of. She was attracted to him but didn't want to be.

He watched eight furry feet pass in front of him. "Come on, girls. Mom's watching. Let's make this look good." Suzie and Flash jumped on his back, staying put until he'd finished then took off to get a drink, as if they'd been the ones doing all the work. He looked up after wiping the sweat from his face and chest and Shannon had gone. He chuckled and went to shower.

~~O~~

When Shannon returned to the house, it was filled with the enticing smell of French toast and coffee. And thankfully a fully dressed Lorne. The last thing she needed was him knowing she'd been ogling his half naked body.

Rushing through her shower, she put on jeans and a plain long-sleeved T-shirt in a neutral color. Looking at herself in the mirror, she noticed that this particular color emphasized the dark circles under her eyes. Despite going to bed at a reasonable hour the last few days, she hadn't slept much. Instead, she lay in the dark thinking. About her husband and what her life had been like since his death. And about Lorne and how having him here with her had given that life meaning again by forcing her to begin caring about another.

She'd secluded herself from the outside world not long after Steven had died, away from nearly everything that might make her feel any emotion save the wrenching sadness that came with the loss of the man she'd loved with all her heart. Changing into a white tank top and a fuchsia sweater, she gave her reflection a smile and went to join Lorne.

Sitting at the table, she took the opportunity to watch him without his knowledge…again. He'd turned on the music, something cheerful, and was bouncing in time to the beat as he cooked. His movements were confident and assured as he dipped a slice of bread in the egg mixture, dropped it into the hot skillet and scooped a finished piece onto a plate just in time to turn the last one. He must not have heard her come in because he lifted the skillet and, with a flick of his wrist, flipped the last slice in the air. She covered her mouth with her hand to stop the giggle that wanted to escape so she could watch a little longer and was glad she did.

Again lifting the pan, he swirled the egg-covered bread around as he picked up one of the plates. He flipped it into the air, spun around once and caught it with the plate already holding two. And that's when he realized he wasn't alone. He picked up the second plate and turned to face her with a sheepish grin as she applauded.

"Fantastic!"

With a bow, he set a plate in front of her and the other at his place. "If you liked that, wait till you see my next trick." He poured coffee, set the warm maple syrup in front of her then seated himself.

Shannon took a bite, the sweetness of the maple flavoring reminding her of Sunday mornings when her mother would make a big breakfast before they'd head off to church services. Again she was reminded of Steven because his funeral was the last time she'd seen the inside of a church. She'd stopped praying that same day.

They ate in silence again, but this time it was a companionable silence. And while they ate, she watched him through her lashes. Bit by bit his mood changed. He'd been sweet and charming at first, but now she felt hesitancy coming from him. All this time with just the two of them together, he'd been difficult to read at first, but she'd still come to know his moods. "Wanna tell me what's buggin' ya?"

Shaking his head, he grinned ruefully. _She __can __read __me __like __a __book._ He carried their plates to the sink and started running water in the sink to wash them. "I have to get back to wherever it is I belong so when Henry comes with your supplies…I need to go with him."

~~O~~

Facing the window over the sink as he added the dirty dishes to the hot bubbly water, he waited for her to speak. "Shannon?"

Her chair scraped the floor as she stood. "No worries, Lorne. I hadn't expected you to stay even this long. 'Course I didn't know you'd have amnesia when I brought you here."

"I know." He faced her again, arms and ankles crossed, hips leaning on the sink. "What do you have planned for rest of today?"

She shrugged. "That metal piece is being a bugger even with the brilliant idea I had this morning so it's back to painting. Why?"

"I haven't been to the crash site yet. Could we go?"

"If you like. It's a bit of a hike there and back. We should take food and water."

"And Botany."

"Of course. It'll be warmish today, but bring a jacket just in case we're gone longer than we think."

Nodding, he ran a hand down his cheek. "I'm gonna get a shave before we leave."

At her bedroom door, she turned. "Don't. I like you better scruffy." The moment the words were out of her mouth she wanted to snatch them back. Her cheeks warmed as a blush crept over her features. "I-I, uh, I mean…you…don't have to shave. Not on my account." To her dismay, he headed her way stopping within arm's reach. His closeness, coupled with that smug, knowing smile muddled her thinking even more. "U-U-Unless you, uh, want to."

"You _like_ me?" His grin of delight made her even more tongue tied.

Gathering her wits about her, she tried to backpedal. "I…I didn't say that. What I meant was…"

"Uh-uh. You're not getting off the hook that easily. It's a good thing you like me because…" he leaned close enough to whisper in her ear "…I like you, too."

Still grinning and without waiting for a response, he returned to the kitchen already making a list of what they'd need for a day of hiking out to a wrecked plane, including a tool kit.

~~O~~

They'd been on their hike for almost an hour before Shannon spoke. "You really enjoy my work?"

"Most of it."

She scowled at him. "What _didn__'__t_ you like?"

Botany had insisted on walking beside Lorne, graciously carrying their supplies for the hike. Turning his head, he flicked his ears as if he knew the human had said the wrong thing.

"The canvasses you showed me the other day? Well, they're…nice."

The scowl turned to a full on glare telling him she was insulted. "You're an artist. Surely you have something a little more profound to say than…" she made air quotes "…nice."

"You wouldn't want me to lie, would you?" He took her shrug as an affirmation. "You have an amazing talent, Shannon. I wish I could do _half_ of what you do. Your use of color and the composition of your pieces are mind-boggling."

"But…"

Using his hands to demonstrate, he gestured as he spoke. "Art is…it's meant to affect the senses. It expresses emotions and forces us to examine our thoughts, beliefs, philosophies, attitudes and principles. It's meant to make us feel something we might not have before."

Huffing at him, she bent over to pick up a rock, tossing it hand to hand. "Are you making a point or just talking?"

"My _point_ is the only emotions I feel from the ones I saw the other day, with the exception of the one of Botany, are apathy and indifference." Shannon sped up to get away from him but he caught up to her with just a few steps, taking her by the arms and holding her still, the rock falling between them. "Don't forget that I've seen your earlier work. You were happy once, full of passion, rage, thirst, hunger, excitement. You had _enthusiasm_ for life. What happened to it?" Inside, he could feel anger building, automatically suppressing it.

"You really wanna know?"

The anguish in those four words cut into him, but he didn't release her. "Yes."

"You think my husband just left me one day, took up with some bleached blonde bimbo with enormous breasts and a tiny mind. But that's _not_ the case, Lorne. He _did_ leave me, but Steven _died_. And since he's been gone, I'm just breathing in and out, going through the motions of living." She laid a fist over her left breast. "My heart used to beat in time with his. Now it's just a muscle that pushes blood around. This…" she gestured at herself, "…is just a body…without a soul."

Though shocked at the revelation that she was a widow, Lorne gave her a disbelieving glance. "A body without a soul? Why do I find that hard to believe?"

She pushed his hands away and he let her. "I don't _care_ what you believe."

When she resumed walking, her back was stiff with the effort of controlling her emotions, and he knew that when they returned to Blueberry Hill, she'd isolate herself in the barn or her bedroom just as she'd been doing for who knew how many years. He didn't know how he would prevent it but he had to try before he left, to get her to take an interest in the outside world again, medicine to soothe the soul she claimed she didn't have. And she _did_ have a soul or he'd have died of hypothermia after the crash. Now all he had to do was get her to see it as well.

~~O~~

As they neared the crash site, Shannon stayed back while Lorne climbed inside what was left of the plane. She tried not to watch the way he fit so comfortably into the jeans that used to be her husband's or the way the material pulled taut over his backside as he lifted first his right leg then his left to get inside the cockpit. Instead, she took her mind back to their almost-argument of before.

She'd told the truth, at least as she saw it. Her life had gone to hell the day the doctor had given them Steven's prognosis of three months to live. But he'd been a fighter, one to do everything he could to prove someone wrong, and had vowed to make it to their second anniversary. In the end, the disease had won out, taking him from her just barely a month short of his goal.

Their friends had each taken a turn relieving her and the nurses that cared for him around the clock those last few weeks. And she…she'd tried to go back to her life as it had been before he'd taken ill, but it wasn't the same. Each day she'd come home from teaching art to high schoolers expecting him to be there. And each day she'd realize that he wouldn't ever be there again except in her heart and memory. This brought her back to Lorne, as most of her thoughts did these days.

Now he was on the floor of the cockpit on his back pulling apart what was left of the control panel and digging around inside. The problem with that is it now drew her attention to the front of his pants, reminding her of the first few days he'd been with her where she'd had to care for him in all the same ways one would have to care for a very sick child. Except that he wasn't a child and every time she'd touched him he'd…reacted. She'd been both flattered and annoyed though why she didn't know.

She was brought out of her musings by Botany snuffling in her ear. Again he seemed to know what she was thinking and called her on it. Wrapping an arm around his neck, she rested her head against his until he pulled away and pushed her in Lorne's direction. "What?"

Botany again pushed her toward the plane and the man inside. Facing the horse, she crossed her arms. "What if I don't _want_ to be with him?"

A loud whinny came from the big animal, his head lifted high as if in annoyance.

"Huh. A lot you know. You've never even been on a _date_." Tired of her long-time companion being a matchmaker, Shannon made a decision. "Lorne!"

"Yeah." His distracted voice was muffled by his head being inside the plane.

"I'm takin' a walk."

"'Kay."

Rolling her eyes because he reminded her of Steven when he was immersed in creating the newest version of his company's best-selling video game, she turned back to Botany. "You staying or coming?" The horse took a few steps toward the plane, looking at Lorne then back at her. She huffed at him. "Traitor."

After taking a sandwich and a bottle of water from the saddlebags hanging over Botany's back, she headed out.

~~O~~

A long and frustrating hour later, Botany nudged Lorne making him drop the wrench, _spanner_, he mentally corrected himself with a snort. "What the hell…" Botany whinnied and pushed at him again. Pulling himself out of the cockpit of the totaled plane, he looked around but didn't see Shannon. "Where'd she go, boy?"

Looking up into the sky he estimated that she'd been gone too long for just a short walk. "Well, this trip is a bust anyway. There's no GPS. Guess the owner never put one in." He packed the tools and stowed them in the saddlebag. "Which way?"

Botany started off in the direction they'd come from and like a dog, looked over his shoulder waiting for Lorne to follow. He hurried to catch up to the big animal who stopped him by blocking his path. "She went home, didn't she?" Botany nodded his head up and down in response. Eyeing the horse's strong back, he knew the only way to get back to Blueberry Hill quickly was for him to ride. He gathered the reins and moved the horse over to a small boulder, using it to give him a boost onto Botany's back. He whistled the signal Shannon had used and Botany took off, his hooves pounding the hard ground, kicking up sand, pebbles and small tufts of the hardy grasses that grew in the area. Though he didn't remember where he'd learned to ride a horse, his body obviously did, his legs automatically doing what they needed to keep him from being thrown. He didn't need another head injury to go with the one he'd just gotten over. Well, he hadn't completely healed or he would remember everything, but he couldn't let that distract him now. Somehow, the horse sensed that something was wrong and if _he_ was worried, Lorne was too.

When they neared the small cluster of buildings that comprised Shannon's home, he pulled back on the reins, Botany coming smoothly to a stop. He jumped to the ground, his eyes and ears searching for the woman who'd become very important to him very quickly.

He'd forgotten his jacket at the plane and the light breeze chilled him, but again, he wouldn't let it distract him from his purpose. The wind did bring him information. Voices. Shannon's and at least one male, maybe two. Henry was due to make his supply run soon but he always came alone, never with someone else.

Lowering his voice, he told the horse to stay put and crept toward the rear of the greenhouse. From there he made his way to the back side of the workshop, bringing him close enough to distinguish two harsh male voices. They were demanding Shannon take them to her valuables, jewelry and the like, not believing when she told them she had none.

Peeking around the corner, he saw two very dirty, unkempt men and Shannon standing in the middle of the yard. One brandished a rifle and the other had her by the arm dragging her toward the workshop. From what they weren't saying, it appeared they had overheard someone talking about the reclusive artist and had assumed that, because she lived alone so far from civilization, she also didn't trust banks. To them, this meant that she hoarded loot on the property and they'd come to relieve her of it, Shannon interrupting them before they could have a good look around.

Taking a deep breath, he allowed his features to fall into a genial, slightly bored expression similar to the one he'd drawn on the face of the man he knew to be his CO, and stepped out of his hiding place.

"Hey, guys. You're a little early. The party's not till _next_ week. But I'm sure we can whip something up to keep you entertained."

The one holding onto Shannon swung her around in front of him as a shield, twisting her arm behind her back. He could see from the look in her eyes that it hurt, but he also knew she wouldn't give them the satisfaction of crying out.

"Who the hell are you?"

Lorne opened and closed his mouth. Grinning ruefully, he shook his head. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"What are you talking about?" The man holding Shannon nodded to his buddy and he stepped forward, rifle at the ready.

Again Lorne grinned, his right hand coming up in a jaunty salute. "We who are about to die…salute you."

Immediately, the loud report of gunfire filled the air.

**TBC**


	6. To Feed the Spirit

**A/N: **See bottom of page.

~Sandy

**Turning the Page**

**Chapter 6**

**To Feed the Spirit**

The sand at Lorne's feet kicked up in little red puffs, the bullets completely missing their target though he doubted it. They might be intent on robbing the place, but didn't have the stomach for killing or he'd be dead and so would Shannon. Though every instinct he had told him to run, he never even twitched except to look down at his feet then back to the Bad Guys. To further disconcert them, Lorne laughed.

Still sighting on him with the rifle, Bad Guy One chambered the next round. Bad Guy Two scowled, wrapping his free arm around Shannon's neck.

Lorne took another step toward them and again a round hit the ground in front of him, this one a little closer.

"Stay where you are or I'll break her neck." Bad Guy Two released Shannon's arm, using that hand to hold her tight against him.

Her head was jerked up and Lorne saw real fear for the first time. Using just his eyes, he told her that he'd get them out of this. She accepted with a small confident nod. "Two men hiding behind one _scrawny_ little girl?" Scorn dripped from every word and the men shared a glance. He wasn't able to tell the model of the weapon from this distance, just that it was old and if he had to guess, they hadn't brought much ammunition. Bad Guy One shrugged tossing the rifle aside and flexing his hands.

Bad Guy Two grinned nastily, shoving Shannon so hard she lost her balance and fell against the side of the workshop. Together the men advanced on Lorne. "Show us what y' got, Yank."

~~O~~

Shannon lay on the ground watching as Lorne continued to taunt the two would-be robbers until they were angry enough to rush him, which had apparently been his plan all along. After watching him workout and seeing some of his sketches, she knew he'd come out on top in a fight with a couple of half-arsed robbers who'd just traveled almost a full day on horseback.

He ducked and the first man stumbled past to trip over a low bush, his speed increased when Lorne gave him a shove pitching him headfirst against the side of the shed. He lay on the ground stunned, shaking his head, but Lorne ignored him as he launched himself at the other man, the one who'd threatened Shannon. The two of them fell to the ground, rolling around, stopping with Lorne on the bottom.

Climbing slowly to her feet, Shannon took a step forward, but thought better of that idea when Lorne brought his knees up between them and push his attacker off. The man, skinny but wiry, flew through the air to crash into the other one. He kept to his feet, pushing away from his cohort to rush Lorne before he could stand. But it wasn't to be. Lorne brought his knees to his chest, rolled onto his upper back, kicking up and out, arching his back as he pushed with his hands on either side of his head, and was on his feet so fast even _she_ was surprised. She recognized the move from marital arts movies Steven used to watch so avidly, using what he saw in his video games. The move was meant to impress and it worked. On her at least. She was very impressed!

Leading with his right shoulder, Lorne rushed toward the other man, catching him in the midsection. He didn't stop though, just kept driving forward, relentless. Though he was more than holding his own, just in case, she inched over to the workshop door and slipped inside. If this went badly for him, she wanted to be prepared.

Making her way to the one corner she hadn't shown him, she picked up the only working weapon in the room, snatched up the ammunition and rushed back to the scene. Stumbling to a halt, she loaded her weapon pointing it at the guy still on the ground. Her eyes, full of fear that she'd be too late and Lorne would be injured or worse when she returned, widened at the spectacle before her.

Botany stood off to the side watching the fight, ears swiveled forward to catch all the action. Well, fight wasn't exactly the word that fit what she was seeing. Lorne, his clothing torn and covered with red dust, was grinning while the other man screamed because Flash had jumped on his back. She'd dug her claws in as far as they would go, holding on and yowling all the while the man kept trying to throw her off.

Shannon opened her mouth to call the cat, but Lorne beat her to it.

"Flash-bang! Down!" After one last slash with her back claws that made the man howl, the cat obeyed. She sauntered to Suzie's side and began cleaning herself as if it were any another day.

The first guy to go down got to his feet. "Let's get out of here!" His friend didn't speak, just shambled after him to a pair of horses tethered to a tree about twenty meters from the house. Their approach startled the animals, the first guy hopping with one foot in a stirrup as the horse tried to get away.

They were leaving empty handed, but Shannon's anger stayed high as she lifted her crossbow, placing the butt against her right shoulder. Her finger curled around the trigger as she sighted on the one who'd man-handled her. She held her breath, released the safety and pressed the trigger. The arrow flew straight and true, sticking into the man's backside making him scream in pain.

As they rode out of sight she shouted, "Bloody ratbags! Think you can come out here and just have at it, you've got kangaroos loose in the top paddock!" But they were either too far away to hear or just didn't care because they kept going.

Lowering her crossbow, she turned to Lorne standing beside her. "Lorne?" Head bowed, eyes closed, the heel of one hand pressed to his forehead, his breathing slightly faster than it should be, he didn't respond. Setting the crossbow aside, she cautiously touched him on the shoulder. He looked up so quickly, she took a step back at the odd look in his eyes. "You okay?"

He shook his head as if coming out of a trance. "I…uh…it was…I remembered something, or started to. It's gone now." Placing his hands on her shoulders, he looked into her eyes. "Are _you_ okay?"

"Yeah. They jumped me just as I was going into the house, bloody arseholes." She looked closer at his face. "Come on. Let's get you taken care of."

Touching a finger to his mouth, it came away with blood. "No worries. Um, that was some sharp shooting."

"Not really." Taking his arm, she led him into the house. "I was aimin' for _head_ not his arse."

~~O~~

Lorne let Shannon lead him to the kitchen seeing the supplies on the table telling him that Henry had come and gone while they were on their hike to the plane. He was disappointed, but not as much as he thought he should be. The feeling he needed to be elsewhere was still there but he pushed it into a compartment in his brain to be looked at another time.

Holding an icepack over his left eye while Shannon removed the blood and dirt from the lower part of his face, he took the opportunity to appreciate the gentleness of her touch he'd been missing. She was nearly done when her hands began to shake, the washcloth she'd been using falling to the floor as the adrenaline finally wore off and reality set in.

Tossing the ice pack on the table, Lorne got to his feet, lowering her into the chair just as her knees gave way. "Shannon?"

He tried to get her to lift her head, but she wouldn't look at him, just wrapped her arms around herself as she trembled. "I…If you hadn't come when you did…"

On one knee beside her chair, he embraced her urging her head onto his shoulder. Her arms went around him, gripping tight to the back of his shirt. She didn't cry, the comfort of his strong presence stopping the tears before they were shed. "I would _never_ let anything happen to you."

"I know. It's just that…" she drew in a shaky breath, obviously trying to get herself under control, "…um, a few weeks after Steven died, I was asleep in our condo when two men broke in waking me. They didn't know I was hiding in the bedroom closet as they ransacked the place, and they found me before the police arrived. When I wouldn't give them the combination to the safe, one of them hit me. The police came and caught them as they were leaving." Lorne didn't say anything, just kept holding her, his hands rubbing soothingly up and down her back. "I moved out here shortly after that."

~~O~~

Shannon felt Lorne smile against her neck. "I've always wondered why a young, beautiful and wonderfully talented woman would choose to live so far from everything. I'm sorry you had to go through that, but I'm glad I was here this time."

Her body went taut at his description of her. She'd never worried about her looks thinking them ordinary. But the idea that _he_ found her beautiful made her want to return the compliment in a very special way. Easing out of his embrace, it was on the tip of her tongue to ask him to make love with her right there on the kitchen floor. Then he grinned.

"_You_ are a mess." He stood, taking her hands and bringing her to her feet. "I got dirt all over you. Go take a hot bath. I'll get a shower and start dinner."

Nodding, she went into her bedroom and closed the door, leaning against it until her heartbeat finally slowed down a little closer to normal. But that didn't stop the rest of her from calling out for his touch. "Right. Cold shower then."

~~O~~

Shannon disappeared into her room, Lorne exhaling loudly into the air. Now that she was safely behind a closed door, he could breathe easier.

Sort of.

Not really.

Not at all.

When she'd wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face against his neck, her warm breath had him thinking of things he shouldn't. Or should he? He had the feeling that it had been a while since he'd been intimate with a woman, wondering if it had been the brown-eyed blonde in his drawings though he had his doubts. Somehow he knew that their relationship hadn't progressed to that point before she'd ended it.

The cats came to sit in front of him, tails swishing back and forth over the wood floor. He crouched in front of them, rubbing their heads and backs. "I coulda taken him, but thanks for the rescue, Flash."

She arched her whiskers forward in acceptance of the praise then she and her companion sauntered over to their food dishes and demanded dinner. He slapped the tops of his thighs, got to his feet, fed the cats then went into his own room. It was early yet, but he didn't feel like getting dressed so he settled on pajamas. They were baggy enough he shouldn't have a reason to be embarrassed just in case his current condition didn't change even after the cold shower.

Stripping down, he threw his dirty clothes in the laundry basket then tossed clean pajamas on the bed, his skin already chilled from the coolness of the room. _Looks __like __my __only __problem __tonight __will __be __cold __weather __shrinkage, _he thought ruefully.

He jumped into the shower before he could rethink his plan, the water so cold it felt like he'd fallen through the ice while skating. This caused him to wonder where the power, water and gas came from, making a mental note to ask Shannon tonight.

Shutting off the water, he vigorously towel-dried his skin to warm it again, dressed and returned to the living room just in time to see Suzie jump up onto the mantel knocking down one of the photographs. He picked it up, rubbing his fingers over the glass to clear the dust and grime.

In the pink sweater she'd worn a few days ago, Shannon stood in front of an African-American man, his arms around her from behind, chin on her shoulder, a cozy fireplace and snow falling through the window. They looked happy and very much in love and making Lorne wish it could be like that for him and…

"What are you doing with that?" Shannon's angry voice cut through the fantasy he'd started creating.

"Suzie knocked it down." He handed it to her. "Steven?"

She took it from him, her anger gone as suddenly as it appeared. "This was taken on our honeymoon in Wolf Creek, Colorado." Her hand paused before picking up another. In this one, Steven stood with a very tall Caucasian man, both in tuxes, white carnations in their buttonholes. "He and Tony were best friends since they were six. They're both American in case you were wonderin'. They started the company out of a small two bedroom apartment in Houston. "

"Doing what?"

"Video games. They created _Mega-sphere_."

He looked at her blankly, the name not ringing a bell. "Sounds like fun. Um, I haven't started dinner yet. How about I get a fire started first?" After that, Shannon followed him to the kitchen, setting the table while he warmed up the food.

~~O~~

Sitting at the table eating quietly, each lost in thoughts of their own, Shannon watched Lorne and he watched her though they both pretended not to.

In the bathroom, Shannon had changed her mind about the cold shower. Without even trying, Lorne had made her body feel truly alive for the first time since Steven had died and she didn't want it to end. Not that a cold shower did for women what it did for men. And though she didn't want to, her mind compared her husband with the man in the other room.

Steven had been open and up front about his feelings since the day they'd met.

Lorne was a mystery, a riddle she wanted to know the answer to. She was willing to have that answer revealed a little at a time.

Now, she wished he'd look at her so she could see his eyes, but at the same time she didn't want to. One minute, every emotion played out, and the next, nothing. Almost as if a mask had dropped into place out of habit rather than coming from conscious thought.

Whenever he looked at her, the color of his eyes changed, no matter what he was talking about. It was involuntary, she knew, but didn't care. He thought she was beautiful and that made her _feel_ beautiful. It also made her wish she had something in her wardrobe besides pants and shirts. Well, she did have a few sweaters in bright colors, but not much else. Not one dress in the entire house. With a start, she remembered that her wedding dress was in the attic storage, but she could hardly wear that.

For some reason, that led her to wonder what their children might look like. Not that it could ever happen. The surgery she'd had following a bad car accident when she was a teen had destroyed all hopes of her ever being able to conceive a child. But it didn't stop her from fantasizing. Startled out of her musings, she jumped just a little when he touched her on the hand.

"Sha?"

"Hmm? Oh, sorry. Thinking." Suddenly, she realized what he'd just called her. "Sha? Where'd _that_ come from?"

Lorne shrugged. "It just seems to fit. Do you mind?"

"'Course not." In fact, she rather liked that he'd given her a nickname. It was something no one else had ever done, something just between them. It showed her that he was comfortable enough with her to do so. To hide the slight blush that crept over her cheeks, she took a long drink of her hot tea, hoping the heat would disguise it. "Why did you call her Flashbang?" She nodded at the cat sitting in the middle of the floor cleaning her tail.

He chuckled, his cheeks dimpling again. "She reminds me of a stun grenade." Swirling the last of his tea in the cup, he explained. "They're used to temporarily neutralize the combat effectiveness of enemies by disorienting the senses. A flash of light briefly activates all light sensitive cells in the eye, making vision impossible for about five seconds until the eye restores itself to its normal. The loud blast disturbs the fluid in the ear. Flash…bang. Flashbang."

"Like when she jumps on your stomach?"

"Yeah. And Suzie's like a tsunami. Runs right over you, if you get in her way." He demonstrated with a swoop of his hand. "Suzie Tsunami."

"Too right." She scooped up a spoonful of noodles ready to change the subject. "What do you remember about your sister?"

Shrugging, he leaned back in his chair and she could tell from the way the light dimmed in his eyes that it hurt him not to be able to remember his family aside from his mother. But she had a plan. She didn't know where her idea came from, but it was worth a try. The moment had to be just right though.

"Younger than me…married…I think she has two boys. They have a dog, a mutt."

"Mutt?"

"Mixed breed dog, to be politically correct."

"Oh." She smiled indulgently. "We call 'em bitzers. Bits of this, bits of that. Bitzer. Had one when I was a kid. She was all black with a huge white spot on her bum." That made him laugh and it made her happy that she could distract him from the melancholy mood he'd started to fall into. _Time __to __pounce._ "What's your commanding officer's name?"

"John Sheppard. But what does that have to do with…" he stopped with his mouth open and she gave him a triumphant grin, tapping him on the forehead.

"See? It's all in there somewhere. We just have to find it."

~~O~~

Not able to stop himself, Lorne gave her flabbergasted stare. All these weeks and she'd managed to do what he hadn't: produce a spontaneous memory. _Sheppard?_ He rolled the name around inside his head, placing it up against the sketch of the man with the messy hair. _Yeah, __it __fits. __Now __if __I __could __only __remember __the __rest __of __it._ "We?"

"Yeah." And she smiled.

He wasn't having any success jump-starting his memory on his own. She seemed to have a plan for helping him and he was happy to go along with it, as long as she continued to smile at him just like that.

Sha, as he now thought of her, scooped the last noodle from her bowl then drank the rest of the broth. His mother had drilled into him that eating soup that way was unacceptable unless you were eating at home alone. She'd been living alone long enough that it apparently didn't matter. Whatever. He followed her example and drained the remainder of his soup as well.

~~O~~

Pushing away from the table, Shannon started gathering up the dishes and silverware, but Lorne, ever the gentleman, insisted on helping. She would have dumped everything in the sink for later. He nixed that idea by rinsing the dishes then running water in the sink. Their friend, companionable silence, came around for another visit as he washed while she dried and put away the dishes.

She'd dried the last plate and he was wiping off the table when she let him in on her next idea for recovering his memories, though she didn't tell him that or it would have defeated the purpose. "Wanna play a few rounds of _Mega-sphere_?"

"Instead of watching one of those sappy romances you can't get enough of? Sure."

With a genial huff, she snapped him with the damp towel. He jumped, making her laugh as she carried the towel with her to the fireplace. The fire Lorne had started before dinner crackled merrily warming her while she carefully wiped the dust and dirt from the photos that had lain face down for years. They were all of her and Steven together, him alone or them with friends and his family. There were even a few of her with Botany when he was still a babe. Setting them upright, she smiled in contentment. Yes, she was finally becoming comfortable with the changes in her life these past few weeks. And it was all Lorne's doing.

~~O~~

Her task completed, Lorne watched Sha go into the bedroom leaving the door partially open. A moment later, he heard a loud explosion of sound, almost a scream. Thinking the worst, he rushed into her room and found her in the bathroom blowing her nose.

"What?" Her eyebrows drew together over her nose in puzzlement.

"Are you _okay?_ I thought you _fell_." It was his turn to be bewildered when her cheeks turned that shade of pink that suited her so well.

"Sneezed. Sorry to scare ya. And believe me, that's not even as loud as I can do it."

"Wow! Something like that could totally destroy your ability to do long division." Keeping a straight face was impossible and it seemed only natural for him to slip his arm around her shoulders to pull her close as they laughed together.

He looked down as she looked up, a wry smile turning up the corners of her mouth. "That would explain a lot!"

Suddenly realizing they were in her bedroom and embracing, Lorne cleared his throat. "I, uh, I'll go back to…"

"I was gonna call. Can't reach it." He pulled down the box she indicated carrying it to the living room and setting it on the table in front of the sofa. She pulled out cables, controllers and a game console unlike any he'd ever seen-that he could remember-watching as she quickly hooked the player up to the television.

When she crouched, the soft material of her pajamas hugged her backside causing him to rub his hands together to keep from doing something he'd regret in the morning, and grateful he'd worn baggy sweats instead of jeans. She stood, reaching for something on the top shelf of the entertainment center. Under normal circumstances, he'd have helped, but he didn't trust himself when her top pulled high enough for him to see the smooth skin of her back and several ridges of her spine. _That __cold __shower __was __a __complete __waste __of __time!_

He sat on the sofa, barely listening as she gave him the basic plot of the game, letting his gaze travel over her slim body until she plopped down beside him, leaning against him as she explained how to use the controller. Though he barely heard her because the feel of her body against his was playing havoc with his libido, he nodded as if he understood every word. Unfortunately, it didn't get better when she moved away. Giving her a sidelong glance, he was certain she had no idea what she'd just done.

"There's a bit of narration at the beginning, if you'd like to listen."

The staccato beat of his heart made it difficult to understand what she was saying so he just agreed and was rewarded with another smile, this one filled with pride in her husband's creation.

"Your character's name is Warrant Chief Gabriel Long, a cybernetically-enhanced soldier, and mine is Tallis, his android companion. Here we go." She started the game and he tried to pay attention. After the first paragraph, he no longer had to force his brain to stay on the game as there was something very familiar about it.

_The __first __sign __of __the __fight __isn__'__t __something __Long __sees, __but __something __he __hears __in __the __distance. __To __a __casual __observer __it __sounds __like __thunder, __but __to __a __man __trained __in __the __art __of __war __and __more __experienced __in __that __art __than __he __wants __to __be, __it __is __without __a __doubt __the __sound __of __weapons __fire __he __hears._

_The corridors Long travels are dim, casting shadows that he knows could hide any number of things that might kill him, but he forges on, his eyes only fractionally ahead of the sights of his weapon as it follows his gaze. The small yet powerful light mounted on top of the weapon illuminates his "kill zone."_

_A turn appears in front of him and he slows his approach, knowing full well that the enemy could be lurking ahead. He stops and leans forward just enough to peek around the corner, then more quickly than should be possible he pulls his head back just as an energy charge sizzles though the air that his head had just occupied. It impacts on the wall to his right sending dust and chips in all directions._

_Long takes a deep breath and jumps around the corner, firing at the first thing that moves, which happens to be one of the ugliest creatures he's ever seen. A crate is nearby and he dives behind it as more energy charges explode in the floor and walls around him. They sound almost like fireworks, but he derives no joy from them. _

_Long crouches, settling onto his haunches so that he can spring up and fire. He shoots at the ungodly creature, spent shells gathering at his feet with an almost musical sound. Another creature appears and he adjusts his sight to fire at it. He sees the rounds impact the wall next to the creature and adjusts his aim by turning. Bullet holes line the wall in a jagged pattern until they're stopped-finally-by hitting the target._

_Just catching the muzzle flash from the first creature, Long ducks barely in time. He waits and leans to his right to shoot around the side of the crate. He catches the creature off guard and nails it before it can move its weapon from its firing position and it falls from its hand with a resounding clang as his bullets tear through its body, sending the creature into a puppet-like dance until it falls._

The words faded out and the game began.

_Still protected by the corner, Long's companion, Tallis watched their backs, firing her weapon at another of the creatures behind them. It fell, writhing on the floor, a gurgling coming from its reptilian-like throat, shuddered one last time, and died. Though she kept her eyes focused on the spot, no others followed. A quick glance over her shoulder told her that Gabriel had frozen in place as if paralyzed by fear. But Long had no fear. Not of the aliens they fought on a daily basis. Not of the insects and rodents that inhabited their refuge. And not of expressing his emotions to anyone, be they friend or foe._

~~O~~

"Lorne?" Shannon nudged him with her elbow.

"Huh? Oh, sorry."

His thumbs and fingers operated the controls as if he'd done this more than just a few times. He may not remember playing, but his body did. Sitting forward with his elbows on his knees, he shot, jumped, ran and generally destroyed the horde of aliens that kept coming no matter how many he killed.

Keeping up with him as much as possible, Shannon did her best to add to the carnage until all the enemies had been disposed of. Her character, Tallis followed Long down a series of dark hallways until they came to an open area filled with consoles blinking and humming with power. Other corridors branched off, the light swallowed by the darkness just a few meters in, a thick mist covering the floor up to their ankles.

_With Long keeping watch, Tallis pulled a computer from her backpack and attached it to the central console. A nod and she let him know that they'd reached their goal, the mother lode of information belonging to the enemy. Information that could turn the tide of the war provided they were able to decipher the data._

When the narration ended, Shannon disconnected the computer, shoved it into Tallis' backpack and waited for Long to lead the way back to their ship. Turning to her left, Lorne sat there staring at the screen as if mesmerized. Again she nudged him and when he faced her it was as if he wasn't seeing _her_, but something from the past. Without a word, he returned to the game.

~~O~~

Lorne played the game as if he'd been doing it all his life. And maybe he had and just couldn't remember. He worked the controller, sending Long running, ducking and firing with pinpoint precision, bringing down the aliens with hardly a thought.

In between one breath and the next, the alien's forms blurred, changing from their reptilian appearance to something quite different. Their hunched spines straightened, lengthening until they stood completely erect, like a human. The snouts shrank in on themselves, turning into pale faces with ridges beginning above the nose in place of eyebrows. Hair appeared, white and long.

_They fired at him, beams of energy whizzing past his hiding place behind an outcropping that looked grown rather than built. The weapon in his hand kicked as he fired off a volley that brought down more of the creatures. _

_Wraith. _

_His companions, a small woman with auburn hair, a tall man, both warriors, and a stocky man wearing all black and obviously not a soldier, carrying only a handgun and a scanner, crept alongside him through the halls of a ship. They were on a mission to destroy the ship they were on before it could reach its destination: Earth._

_A flurry of activity and he and the woman fired their weapons as the other two engaged in hand-to-hand combat with Wraith drones. One of them came up behind the tall man, shoving a long knife between his ribs. A few intense moments later the man was dead having bled out from the wound. _

_But now was not the time for mourning. He shoved his companions down the corridor that lead to the power control room, keeping them focused with shouted orders, and they obeyed. An explosion to his right, far enough away to spare him and his companions, caused them to stumble against the walls that gave just a little at the impact._

~~O~~

On her hands and knees her eyes wide in alarm, Shannon slowly approached Lorne. Crouched in the space between the sofa and the wall, he'd finally stopped calling out words that she didn't completely understand. She did get that he wasn't _hiding, _buttaking refuge from the enemy. Most of what he'd said hadn't made any sense so she filed it away for later. Maybe she'd ask him about it. Maybe not. "Lorne?"

He didn't respond to the sound of her voice. Kneeling next to him, she carefully touched him on the shoulder. He didn't move until she enfolded him in her arms then he pulled her close, holding her so tight she could barely breathe.

But she didn't dare move away.

**TBC**

**A/N:** Mucho thanks go out to ladygris for her Beta services once again. God Bless!

This chapter contains a Halo-like game. Since I've never played, many thanks to dwparsnip for his assistance. I used what he sent me almost verbatim.

If the Aussie slang used in this chapter isn't correct, blame:

http : / www . koalanet . com . au / australian-slang . html (Take out the spaces then PM me and I'll fix it.)

FYI - The sneezing anecdote is something that actually happened to the author. Again, verbatim.


	7. A Refuge from the Miseries of Life

**A/N: **To the anonymous reviewer who commented on Lorne's nickname for Shannon. I understand that _Sha_ isn't an Aussie nickname for _Shannon_, but you've overlooked one small fact: Lorne isn't Australian. He's American.

Thanks for reading by the way. ;-)

~Sandy

**Turning the Page**

**Chapter 7**

**A Refuge from the Miseries of Life**

Lorne's senses returned to the present slowly, beginning with touch. Warmth surrounded him, filling him with an intensity of feeling. It was comfort with a generous helping of-and this surprised him-affection, something he was certain he hadn't felt in some time. He pictured dark hair and even darker eyes set into a sweet and gentle face, mouth turned up in a smile.

His sense of smell came next bringing the aroma of vanilla and brown sugar mixed with the sharp tang of fear. Not _of_ him, but _for_ him.

Something tickled his nose, his head automatically moving away from the source, his arms loosening. As soon as he began to pull back the tight band around his shoulders slackened as well, the body pressed against his easing away, a momentary chill sweeping across his chest.

Taking a deep breath, he cautiously opened his eyes, an out of focus form swimming through a brief moment of vertigo. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. Shaking his head, he slowly opened them again to see Shannon kneeling in front of him, one hand still on his shoulder. A quick glance around told him they were no longer seated on the sofa. _What __happened?_

"Dunno. You okay?"

Shannon's words told him he'd said that last aloud. "Not sure."

She got to her feet, taking his hand and bringing him up beside her. "We were playing the game and you just froze. When I called your name, you, well, sorta went 'round the bend, yellin' and wavin' your arms."

His eyes roamed over her looking for injuries. "Did I hurt you?"

"No. Just had me worried for a bit."

"What did I say?" He glanced at the television as she drew him to the sofa once more. The dark screen stared at him almost accusingly. She saw and rushed to close the doors of the entertainment center before going into the kitchen. His lungs felt as if he'd been running a marathon, but he didn't let on. Just took some deep breaths, trying to calm his wildly beating heart.

"Doesn't matter. Guess it was a bad idea for us to play the game. Sounds like it brought the wrong memories up." Shannon filled a pan with milk and set it to heating. A few minutes later she returned to his side with two steaming mugs.

"Hot chocolate?"

"Soothes the battered nerves. Second best to having a cat sleep with ya. Or two cats."

Forcing a smile, he took a sip feeling the warmth hit his stomach and spread throughout his body. "Sleep bombs." At her puzzled stare, he explained. "When a cat sleeps on you, she's called a sleep bomb. Better than tranquilizers or sleeping pills."

His words startled a giggle out of her. "Sleep bomb. I like it." Sobering again, she watched the milky film floating in her cup as it swirled in abstract designs. "You gonna be okay? Should I leave the light on in the toilet?"

~~O~~

Despite his reassurances, Shannon knew he would be haunted by whatever images the game had brought to mind. She drank the last of her hot chocolate and stood. He did the same, brushing his hands down the legs of his pajamas as she went to her bedroom door and he to his. "Um, Lorne?"

"Yeah?"

"I, uh…" she hesitated, gathering her courage as it tried to escape. She only _wanted_ comfort, but he _needed_ it though he would never ask. "Would you…would you stay with me just for tonight? I…I don't want to be alone, not like last time." There. She said it, surprised when he came to her side.

"Of course."

Those two words put her heart into overdrive as he followed her into the bedroom. Lifting one side of the covers, she kicked off her slippers and lay down watching the ceiling until she felt the bed shift on the other side. Rolling onto her side, she held in a gasp as he scooted close and spooned her, his arm settling across her stomach. He pulled her so tight to his chest she could feel his heart beating just as powerfully as hers. His warm breath on the side of her neck relaxed her though she'd thought it would have the opposite effect.

Eyes closed, she waited for sleep to come, barely able to grasp that they were in the same bed together when they'd only known each other for a short time. Just as she started to drift off, she heard soft snoring coming from Lorne, the rigidness of his body easing. As if that's what her subconscious had been waiting for, she followed him moments later.

~~O~~

Bright sunshine shown through the window and Shannon snuggled closer the source of warmth in front of her…until it moved.

Her eyes snapped open to see Lorne's face less than five centimeters from hers. He was still asleep, his features more peaceful than she'd ever seen them. A small smile turned up the corners of his mouth as if he were having a pleasant dream instead of whatever made him sleepwalk or had caused the incident the night before.

She slowly loosened her grip, easing first her leg from where it had been draped over his hip then her arm from around him. Lifting the edge of the covers, she started to get up, but before she could slip out of bed, Lorne's strong arm tightened around her waist pulling her back against him.

"Don't go."

Voice husky with sleep, his chest vibrated against her reminding her once again that she was a woman. It also reminded her that she hadn't been intimate with a man in years. With a silent snort she remembered something an elderly neighbor from the condo had once said.

_Honey, it's been so long for me I'm a born again virgin!_

It hadn't been that long for her, but still, she might as well _be_ a virgin the way he made her feel like a giddy schoolgirl about to have her first kiss. Not that she thought he was going to kiss her, but a girl could dre…

~~O~~

Watching Sha through slitted eyelids, he could almost read her mind, seeing the first spark of anxiety beginning to set in now that they were both awake. To stop her from overthinking the situation, he slipped his hand to her upper back and pressed her close, brushing his lips over hers. She stiffened at first then relaxed with a long sigh, her eyes closing and her hand coming up to softly touch his cheek, the calloused tips of her fingers brushing through his scruffy beard. He took that as an invitation to deepen the kiss and did until their knees bumped. Her top leg wrapped around his thigh bringing her even closer with the inevitable result.

And as he'd wanted to for so long, he held that full lower lip between both of his, sweeping his tongue over its fullness. He was not, however, prepared for the consequences of that action.

Sha gasped, the hand on his cheek moving to his shoulder to push him onto his back. Lightning fast, she straddled his hips, but when he reached for her, she took hold of his wrists, pinning them to the pillow above his head as she stretched out full length on top of him. Her knees dropped to the sides, digging into the mattress on either side of his hips, her sock covered feet hooked over his thighs. Only the material of their pajamas kept them from becoming one.

~~O~~

Shannon ravaged his mouth and he returned the favor, nipping at her lips until she dragged them from his laying tiny kisses along his jaw so she could nibble on the flesh of his earlobe. A low moan came from deep in his throat as he pulled his hands from her now lax grasp and found the lower curves of her hips. Sliding up under the hem of her top, he touched the skin of her back.

The feel of his hands on her heated skin made her panic. She pushed his hands away, rolled off of him, her feet hitting the floor with a thump, and the bathroom door slamming behind her a split second later.

Pacing from one end of the bathroom to the other, she pressed her palms to her heated cheeks. Now that she'd been separated from him for a few minutes, anxiety crawled into her brain and wouldn't be dislodged.

What exactly did this all mean to him? What did it mean to _her_? Would he want to continue this to its natural conclusion? Or would he back off, embarrassed at the weakness he'd shown the night before and again just now? Were they ready to take this step? How much did he remember? The questions swirled around and around, making her dizzy.

In the midst of all these questions, her bladder screamed for attention. She used the toilet, washed her hands, splashing cold water on her face trying to calm her body still thrumming with excitement.

"Shannon? You comin' out soon? I need to get in there too."

Taking a deep breath, she brushed the hair away from her face, straightened her clothes, put on a smile and opened the door. She glanced at him then away in embarrassment. From the corner of her eye, she saw him do the same thing as he rounded the foot of the bed and went into the toilet.

Not knowing what else to do, she stood beside the bed looking out the window until her eyes found the shotgun. It had been propped in that corner since the day she'd set him free, just in case. But she'd never needed it and never would with him. He'd never force himself on any woman and had proven himself over and over in the weeks he'd been a guest in her house.

She was about to carry the shotgun back to the living room when he came out, standing awkwardly halfway between the bathroom and bedroom doors, uncertain which way to go.

~~O~~

Watching Sha trying not to look at him, Lorne chastised himself for giving in to his desires. Her head turned and he naturally looked in the same direction, seeing for the first time the shotgun in the corner. Just for a moment, he wondered what she was thinking.

Taking a step forward, she grabbed the shotgun and tossed it to him all in one movement. "Take that to the other room for me."

He caught the weapon, automatically checking that the safety was engaged then cracking it open to unload it only to find both chambers empty. "It's not loaded." His open-mouthed shock changed to a grin when she shrugged and kept her eyes on the floor after another quick glance at him.

"It kept ya in line, didn't it?"

The grin turned into a full on smile, the one he'd used on his mom and sister to try to get his way. It had never worked but still, it was there. "You know, if I'd wanted to take it from you, I could have without even blinking."

"Even while cuffed to the bed?"

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I'm career military. Trained in hand-to-hand. More than once, you were close enough for me to subdue you and take control."

"But you didn't."

"No." He moved to the opposite side of the bed, tossing the shotgun back to her, one eyebrow lifted in challenge. She caught it with both hands. "We could test that theory, if you like."

Shaking her head, Sha let the weapon dangle from one hand. "If you coulda gotten away at any time, why didn't you? Why did you let me keep you chained to the bed?"

~~O~~

The Lorne smile, as Shannon thought of it, was gone now, his expression serious, and she responded in kind.

"I did that to prove that I could be trusted. So you would know that I'd never purposely hurt you."

She thought about that for a moment. "So, you gonna put this up for me?" Once again she made to throw it, her stocking feet slipping on the hardwood floor. She fell forward and Lorne dived forward to catch her. They ended up on the bed again with the shotgun at the foot where he'd knocked it so she wouldn't be injured falling on it.

His arms were around her and she clutched at the shoulders of his shirt. They rolled back and forth a few times, laughing until he trapped her hands above her head. Their laughter tapered off. Still panting, their eyes locked. He released her and oh, so slowly, they leaned toward each other, their lips touching once more. Unlike before where they'd been desperate for each other, this was sweet and gentle, not meant to lead to anything more.

He released her, and she slid her palms up over his firm biceps to his shoulders and around his neck. Once again, as if he had no control, one hand slithered under the hem of her top, his fingertips just touching her side when they were pounced on by two very annoyed cats.

Flash and Suzie wiggled in between the two humans meowing loudly, demanding affection and letting their displeasure about the lateness of their breakfast be known.

Giving in gracefully, Lorne stood and extended his hand. Without a second thought, Sha laid her smaller one in his, letting him lead her across the living room to the kitchen.

~~O~~

_Lorne stood at parade rest in the office of the leader of the Atlantis expedition. Her dark hair just reached her shoulders, her head bowed as she consulted the monitor of her computer. If everything he'd heard about her was true, she was doing it for effect._

"_Welcome to Atlantis, Major Lorne."_

_He took her proffered hand and gave it a light squeeze. "Thank you, ma'am. I'm glad to be here, though just a little puzzled as to why."_

_Elizabeth Weir lean on the edge of her desk, arms crossed. "Aside from that one incident when you were stationed in Germany, your record is spotless. When the position of Colonel Sheppard's second-in-command needed to be filled, you were at the top of a very short list."_

_He met her eyes boldly, without flinching. "Then you must also know that there were extenuating circumstances which resulted in the charges being dropped."_

_She smiled, waving her hand to dismiss his non-explanation/apology. "I didn't bring it up to embarrass you, Major. If it had been an issue, you would never have been on the list in the first place. And the incident in question doesn't even come close to what some of our civilian staff members have done before they were recruited for the Stargate project. The US and Canadian governments have files on Doctor McKay going back to sixth grade."_

_Trying not to show his surprise, Lorne kept his reaction to a slight upturn of his mouth. "I'll keep that in mind, ma'am."_

"_You're also an artist." Not knowing where this was headed, he nodded. "We could have coffee and talk about art sometime, if you like."_

"_I would indeed, ma'am."_

_Elizabeth returned his grin, pushed off the desk and resumed her seat. "Thank you for your time, Major." She pulled her computer to her, obviously dismissing him._

"_And yours, ma'am." He made an about face and crossed the bridge to the Operations area to retrieve his duffle and backpack resting against the back of the main console. A tall Canadian with a genial expression stood, greeting him with a smile._

"_Welcome to Atlantis, Major Lorne. You're assigned quarters are Juliet three-seven, crew level one east. Doctor Zelenka has already programmed the biosensor."_

"_Thank you, Sergeant."_

"_Please call me Chuck. Everyone does."_

_Nodding, __Lorne __shouldered __his __bags __and __headed __for __the __transporter._

_Eventually, he and Elizabeth had become friends over a shared love of art. Late one sleepless night, she'd confided that she had once thought about becoming an artist. When he inquired as to the reason she hadn't pursued it, she'd told him it was due to a lack of talent. They'd had a laugh over their coffee at that, spending the next couple of hours talking art and forgetting about real life for a while._

The scene in Lorne's dream blurred and changed. Now he was standing beside his commanding officer while Sheppard made a verbal report to Stargate Command and the _Daedalus_ regarding their trip to the Replicator homeworld, losing Elizabeth in the process. He stressed that it had been on her order that they'd left her behind.

_The sense of loss nearly overwhelmed him. He needed to release his fury in some way, just managing to keep from punching someone or something. All he did was stand there, hands clasped behind his back, listening as Sheppard's voice echoed through the halls of Atlantis, telling everyone that their beloved leader was never coming back._

_Beloved? Yes, he supposed that, in a way, he did love Elizabeth. His affection was born of their friendship and shared love of art. Something very few others understood about him. More than once he'd gotten a sidelong glance or stifled laughter at the mention of his hobby, but he'd learned to ignore the snide remarks aimed at his masculinity. It was enough that his family, friends and teammates supported him. The opinions of others meant less than nothing. And in the grand scheme of things, the universe eventually offered up more interesting targets for his detractors._

The scene changed again, this time to Afghanistan, a secret location outside of Kabul.

_The air was hot and dry. No rain had fallen in the three months he'd been there and none was forecasted. But that hardly mattered when you were trapped in a foxhole with three others all wounded. Lorne was wounded as well, but not enough to worry about. They were all that remained of three squads of various US military branches. He tried once again to contact search and rescue. _

_And again there was no response. Not even static._

_The men with him, two Marine Sergeants and one Airman First Class-a young man barely out of his teens and the most severely wounded-had been hiding from the rebels they'd been sent to "observe."_

_Lorne raised the binoculars to his eyes, chancing a peek over the rim of their hiding place, ducking down when weapon's fire came his way. He and the others returned fire, and just as suddenly, it stopped. The seconds ticked by, then a soft thump landed near the Airman. A grenade! Lorne got to his knees, preparing to throw it back to where it had come from. He knew there wasn't time, but he had to try. _

_As if in slow motion, one of the Sergeants shouted, "Captain Lorne!" He didn't even know the man's name, but he pushed him out of the way and threw himself on top of the explosive just as it detonated. The explosion hurled Lorne up and back to land on the hard packed earth. He'd been knocked unconscious by the blast never even feeling the impact._

_In a coma for three days, he awoke to find that, out of almost thirty soldiers, he'd been the only one to survive. For his actions, he'd received a Purple Heart and the Silver Star. Feeling that both were unwarranted, he'd never even mentioned them to his family._

Another change and the hospital morphed into an underground facility, a combination prison and lab of sorts that smelled of death and disuse.

_Grime, dirt and rust were in abundance everywhere as they searched the facility. Moments later, Lorne and his team were pinned down by fire from a Wraith stunner. Laying down cover fire, his team crossed the corridor safely and he ducked back around the corner, a blast from the stunner just missing his head._

_His face twisted in anger, most of it aimed at himself for allowing Teyla to be taken, he laid down more fire. He can hear Sheppard's team also engaged in a firefight. Chatter on the radio told him a Wraith ship had just dropped out of hyperspace above the planet. This had to end and soon._

_Sheppard, McKay and Ronon appeared in the hallway, the shooting over for now. The group moved toward a cell, Sheppard blowing the lock with his P-90. _

_And that voice again, the one with the Scottish accent, harsh with indignation._

_Finally_. _It__'__s __about __bloody __time! __What __took __you __so __long?_

Once more the scene altered and now Lorne and others are on board one of the organic ships.

_He reached out to help the woman lying face down in front of a throne-like structure. Her head lifted up and too late he realized that she was still fully Wraith. Her hand shot out to grab him by the throat and lift him into the air. His lungs screamed for oxygen as she raised her other hand, preparing to feed upon him._

Lorne shot to a sitting position in bed, taking in great gulps of air and trying not to scream. The images from his dream were still fresh in his mind along with some of the names he hadn't been able to remember. Sweat soaked his shirt making him smell like fear. Tossing off the covers, he removed the wet shirt and replaced it with one he'd worn the day before. It was dirty but at least it was dry.

Walking softly so he wouldn't wake Sha, he went into the kitchen, filled a small pan with water and set it to heating. Taking down the can of tea, he nearly dropped it when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Lorne? You should be in bed." Her eyes gazed at him in the moonlight streaming through the window over the sink and he could see that she thought he was sleepwalking again.

Opening another cabinet, he took down two mugs. "I'm awake. Just getting a cup of tea."

"You okay?" She took the mugs from him and carried them to the table, dropping a tea bag in each.

"Uh…not really. The dream was so intense I could hear, smell and feel _everything_ as though it were happening at that moment."

"Wanna talk about it?"

He stirred the tea, letting it steep while he tried to sort out what his mind had shown him, not ready to give voice to his memories. "No. At least not yet." Taking a sip of the hot brew, he held it in his mouth for a moment before swallowing. "Sorry if I woke you."

~~O~~

"You didn't wake me," Shannon rushed to reassure him. "Flash did that when she jumped on my stomach or I wouldn't even have known you were up."

Though his eyes stared at something that she would ever be able to see, he did manage a wry smile. "Yeah. Woke her and her partner in crime up, but Suzie's still in my bed."

"They'll both get over it." They finished their tea, Lorne automatically carrying the mugs to the sink. She waited for him and they walked down the short hall to their bedrooms. Taking his hand, she gave it a squeeze which he returned. "If you need anything…"

He gestured at her door. "I know where to find you. Thanks."

She waited until his door had closed before returning to her own room. Pulling the covers over her, she lay awake listening to the quiet. Closing her eyes, she rolled onto her side thinking about the night before, wishing Lorne was with her now. She wouldn't ask him to stay with her a second night, even if he still needed the comfort. No, if she asked him again, it would be just because she _wanted_ him there and no other reason. And she _did_ want to be close to him, even if all they did was sleep in the same bed.

With a snort of annoyance at herself for being a wimp, she tossed off the blankets, left the room and went to stand in front of his door, hand upraised to knock. Her resolve faltered and she started to turn away, but before she could make up her mind, the door opened and Lorne stood there, mouth open in surprise at seeing her. They stared at each other for a few heartbeats then he wordlessly invited her in.

~~O~~

In the morning, Lorne wanted to just stay in bed with Sha cuddled so sweetly against his side, right leg hooked over him, her foot wiggling against the inner part of his thigh as she slept. Flash had climbed on top of them, settling down quite nicely half on his stomach and half on Sha's. Suzie had gone against her SOP of curling up between his knees and now lay draped over his lower abdomen, head resting on her paws and much closer to certain body parts than he liked. Rubbing her head, he whispered, "I thought we agreed…dinner and a movie first."

Suzie looked at him then went back to sleep.

All three girls were sound asleep and looked so content, he hesitated to move them so he just stared at the ceiling allowing the dream to flow through him, holding onto the names, places and situations. Before long, he was asleep again.

~~O~~

Rolling over, Lorne reached for Sha, encountering fur instead. Flash too had changed her MO and was stretched out beside him where he'd expected to find a certain human female. He pulled her close making her meow in protest, preferring to be the instigator of affection. She wiggled until he released her, pounced on Suzie and together they ran out the door that had been left ajar.

He followed the cats out to the kitchen where he found a handwritten note.

_Lorne,_

_The project for Winterville is finished! Go have a look, if you like. _

_Took Botany for a ride over to the canyon. Back before dark._

_Sha_

This was the first time she had ever left him a note telling him where she was going and something inside him, a little voice, his soldier's instincts, whatever it was, whispered in his ear. He waved it away, telling himself that the note didn't mean what it seemed to mean. She just wanted him to know where she was going and how long she'd be gone. He was reaching into the pantry for the coffee when it hit him that you only did that for people you care about so they wouldn't worry.

After he ate, he drew the images and places from his dream, adding names to some of the faces. Sheppard, Ronon, Carson, Jennifer, Rodney, Carter, Elizabeth, a few more. Unlike previous times he'd flipped through the sketches, he didn't linger on the pages of Jennifer and Rodney together. No, the ones he couldn't seem to get enough of were the ones of Sha. Setting the pad aside, he picked up her note. _Go __have __a __look, __if __you __like._

Taking Sha at her word, he jogged across to the workshop, the cats at his heels. Before opening the door he looked down at them. "Are you even allowed in here?" Flash and Suzie just stared at him as if he were mentally incompetent. "Fine. If we get into trouble, we're all goin' down together."

The cats didn't bother to answer, just squeezed through the door as soon as it opened, headed for parts unknown.

A tarp-covered object held a place of honor in the enormous room and though he wanted to see what the final product looked like, he decided to wait for the creator so she could see his reaction first-hand. Instead, he wandered into the painting area seeing several new canvasses propped against the shelving along the far wall.

Examining them one at a time, he marveled at how quickly she'd completed them. It took him days spread over weeks just to finish one and she'd done, he scanned the canvasses, ten since the last time he'd been here. She had a habit of writing the date and time of completion on the back along the wood frame. This one had been done the day after they'd encountered the inept robbers.

And unlike the ones he'd told her were cold and depressing, lacking in emotion, these fairly exploded with life and color. They were wild, raw, the emotions leaping off the canvas to surround him, drawing him into their midst and assaulting his senses though in a good way.

But by far the most…persistent of these was one of Botany, the love she had for the bay leaping out at him. Closing his eyes, he could hear the pounding of hooves on the desert floor, feel the wind in his hair as he crouched low on Botany's back, trusting him to get them both home safely.

He'd always known that she had a deep and abiding passion for life. After her husband died, it had just lain dormant until…

"Hey. Whatcha looking at?"

Lorne faced her, his eyes still on the painting. "You said you're a body without a soul."

Sha frowned, her eyebrows coming together over her nose. "Yeah. So?"

Turning the painting around, he finally looked at her. "_This_ says otherwise."

~~O~~

Shannon crossed her arms, annoyance replacing the smile of greeting. "_I_ thought it said I love my horse." She took it from him, shoving it in among other canvasses he hadn't had a chance to look at. "You should _leave_ now."

Lorne crossed his arms, his feet shoulder width apart, head cocked to the side awaiting a response. Unable to hold his knowing gaze, she turned around and headed for the door. He caught up with her before she got more than a few steps from the workshop door, taking hold of her arm and spinning her to face him again. "Let me go."

"Not until you tell me why you're _really_ hiding out here so far from everything and everyone."

Seeing that he was serious, she stopped struggling. "I'm not _hiding_. This is a refuge from the miseries of life that are waiting to pounce on us at every opportunity."

"What are you talking about?"

"I've been on my own since my parents died when I was sixteen. They were the only real family I had and when they were gone, I thought I'd be alone forever. Then Steven came along and made my life warm and bright once more. Since he's been gone, I again feel as if I'm always going to be alone. Soon, you'll be gone as well, and my life will go back to the way it was." With that parting shot, she turned and stalked in the direction of the house.

~~O~~

Lorne could've let their argument end there, but he had a point to make. Catching up with her in the middle of the yard, he spun her around, his hands holding onto her upper arms. She tried to break free again, but couldn't. "Will it? Really?"

"Of course. Now let me _go_."

"Not until we settle this."

"And how're we gonna do that?" Before she could do more than widen her eyes, he pulled her close and kissed her. Her struggles tapered off and stopped, fingers curling into the material of his shirt.

~~O~~

With a start, Shannon wondered when they'd stopped being Steven's clothes and started being Lorne's.

He quickly ended the kiss, his blue eyes darting over her features and back to her eyes. She stared at him, not blinking, a slight flush on her cheeks, her lips moist and parted as if inviting him to kiss her again. And he wanted to, she could tell. Instead, he took her hand leading her across the yard, into the house, through the living room and into her bedroom.

**TBC**

**A/N: **Many thanks to ladygris and dwparsnip for having a look at this for me. (LG has been in Grammar Nazi mode for the last couple of weeks.)

If I've left anyone out, thanks for your help too.

~Sandy


	8. Sweet Serenity

**A/N: **As always, many thanks to ladygris for her Beta services. She's very insightful when it comes to relationships and all that touchy-feely-fluffy stuff that someone who's never been married knows squat about.

Oh, and I snurched something from my good buddy, dwparsnip. I'm sure he won't mind or be able to figure out what I sto…achem…borrowed.

Gracias,

~Sandy

**Turning the Page**

**Chapter 8**

**Sweet Serenity**

Lorne dragged Sha into the bedroom and turned her to face the full-length mirror on the back of her bathroom door. "Now _look_ at yourself." She kept her eyes on the floor until he forced her to look at the reflection of them standing together with him pressed intimately against her back. His right hand held her chin so she couldn't look away, the other across her stomach, not to keep her from getting away, but to show her how well they fit together despite all of the unknowns. "You know what _I _see when I look at you? I see a warm, loving, _passionate_ woman. I see a woman with her soul on _fire_. I have _never_ lied to you, Shannon. Not once. But you need to stop lying to yourself."

Releasing her, he left her bedroom, the door closing behind him with a click that sounded like an ending.

~~O~~

Shannon looked at the closed door thinking about everything Lorne had said slowly moving over to the dresser and staring at the top covered with dust, like the surface of her soul. Or rather the way it had been the day fate had brought Lorne into her life. Her head tilted back until she could see her reflection.

Her life had been dull and lifeless since Steven's death. But these last few weeks, it was as though she'd been slowly waking up from sleeping for so many years. The light had come back into her life the day she'd gone to the site of the plane crash and allowed a stranger into her solitary world, and she just this moment realized it.

Once dark and flat, her eyes now held a spark within their depths she hadn't seen or felt for so long she thought it would never come back. And while Lorne's touch melted her insides and his kisses made her toes curl, they weren't the only things about him that had started her on this journey back to herself.

It was also the quiet times, standing at the sink washing dishes, setting the table, feeding the cats, turning Botany out for the day. It was watching one of her cheesy romantic comedies and having him silently endure, passing her the box of tissues when she got teary, all without a word of complaint. And it was sitting at the table drinking hot chocolate together or alone, knowing he was somewhere nearby, the source of the sweet serenity that now flowed through her life.

She went into the bathroom, coming back with a cloth and bottle of furniture cleaner. Removing the few items on top, she tossed them onto the bed then quickly cleaned the dresser until it was free of the bits of red sand, flakes of skin and who knew what else. Opening the top left drawer she took out photos and other bits and pieces of her life that she'd been hiding. Touching his face, she smiled and placed the one of her and Steven on their wedding day to the left, turned so that she'd be able to see it as soon as she awakened in the morning.

Working quickly, she added little knick-knacks smothered in sentimentality, finishing with a jewelry box, a gift from Steven for no reason at all. It was filled with all the little pieces of gold and silver he'd bought her over their years together. Some of the pieces were the real deal, but others were paste, bought simply because he thought they suited her or had wanted something to remind them of a special day. He may have been the co-owner of the most lucrative video game company in the world, but he had no pretentions. Opening the box, she took out her wedding ring, tilting it into the light to read the inscription.

_Love you forever._

The same words were inscribed inside Steven's ring, buried with him in his family plot outside of Houston.

He'd told her he loved her not more than a month after they'd met in the university coffee shop, and she'd known that he meant every word though it had taken her much longer to come to the same conclusion.

She dropped the ring back into the box, leaving it open as she hurried from the room and past the kitchen where Lorne was doing something she didn't bother to wonder about. On out the front door she crossed the yard at a moderate jog, yanked open the door to the workshop, slamming it behind her and engaging the lock so she wouldn't be disturbed.

~~O~~

"Sha? Shannon!" Lorne followed her to the door watching in bewilderment as she literally ran to her workshop and slammed the door. Botany, already running loose, looked first at the workshop door then at Lorne, making a sound of confusion. Lorne made a similar sound. "No kidding." He went back into the kitchen and started cutting up vegetables taken from the greenhouse to make vegetable soup.

While it was cooking, he went back to the sketch pad, adding a few more names to the faces he'd drawn. That game had triggered something inside his mind, but he hadn't yet told Sha that he'd started remembering the night after his meltdown. Unfortunately, or maybe not, all the memories were sad, depressing or downright horrifying.

But with the bad, there had to be some good memories, though he'd yet to find them aside from his recollections of Elizabeth and their friendship.

Turning to the page with Jennifer and Rodney together, he waited for the pain of rejection to come again. And waited…and waited. But this time, when he thought of the two of them making a life and a family together, all he felt was relief. He flipped over the pages of Sha, a smile coming to his face.

He cared about her and it was time she knew it. But there between them was the fact that he still didn't know everything about himself, his past, what his plans for the future were. All he knew is he wanted that future to include Sha, Botany, Flash and Suzie, and more. Much more. Now all he had to do was figure out how to do that.

After stirring the soup and turning down the heat, he changed into his workout clothes and went for a run. The pounding of hooves told him that Botany had joined him. He grinned as the horse ran ahead then circled back to his side over and over encouraging him to run faster. Laughing, Lorne stopped for a quick drink then returned to the house.

By the time he'd brushed Botany and picked his hooves, showered and changed, Sha had returned. As he buttoned his shirt he heard the front door slam, then her bedroom door.

Sha arrived at the table just as he was dishing up steaming bowls of soup. He carried them to the table then returned with bread and butter. Without a word, she picked up her spoon and began eating, shoveling the food into her mouth as fast as it would go. All Lorne could do was watch for the first few minutes.

Picking up the bowl, she drained the last of the broth, scooped up a slice of bread, slapped a little butter on it and pushed away from the table. Before she could stand, Lorne grabbed her hand. "Whoa! What's the big rush?"

"I'm on a roll with a new project and need to get back to it." She tugged, but he wouldn't let go.

~~O~~

"Sha, you need to stop and…"

"If you say 'smell the roses', I will _hurt_ you." She used her mock stern voice and glare.

"Wasn't gonna say that." The slightly evil glint in his eyes told Shannon all she needed to know. "So you're just gonna rush back to work? After I _slaved_ over a hot stove to make this gourmet meal?" Still holding her hand, he stood, gesturing at his clothes, a pair of torn jeans and a plaid shirt that was so faded it was difficult to tell the original color. The sleeves were rolled up to just below his elbows, the frayed tails hanging out. At least one button was missing, a wedge of the front of his white T-shirt showing. Clean, just well worn. "I even got dressed up."

She laughed and he released her though, to tell the truth, she liked it when he held her hand. His was big and warm and holding onto him made her feel safe, cared for. _Oh, who am I kidding? He does that just by being here._ "I need to finish. Just another hour or so."

He glanced at the clock. "Okay, but if you're not back in exactly _one_ _hour_, Botany gets your dessert."

She went to the door. "Well, he can have…um, did you say _dessert_?" Waving her away, he picked up the dishes and carried them to the sink, but she didn't leave, just stood there sniffing the air. "What is it?"

"Go on back to the workshop. I'll clean up." He started the water in the sink, refusing to even acknowledge her question. Her interest was more than a little piqued though. Taking the mitt from the counter, she started to open the oven, snatching her hand back when he lightly slapped it.

"Hey!"

"Don't you have a project to finish?"

Waving her hand in dismissal, Shannon tried to push him out of the way, but he refused to budge. "It can wait. Gimme!"

The two of them got into a friendly shoving match with Shannon at a distinct disadvantage. Or not. Steven had been a little ticklish making her wonder if Lorne was as well. _Time to find out._ She grabbed his waist, digging her fingers in over and over as he laughed, convulsing and trying to get away.

"Nononono! Hahaha! Stop! Hahahaha! Stop-stop-stop!" He turned to the side, using his arms to try to push her hands away, but she evaded him easily because she had him trapped in the corner by the sink. "Okay! Okay! Jeez. You fight dirty."

"And don't you forget it!" Shannon finally stopped and when he could breathe again, he opened the oven and took out a homemade cobbler. Cherry by the smell of it. Taking down two small bowls, she waited impatiently for him to serve the hot and juicy dessert.

~~O~~

They got quiet as each scooped up a spoonful and took a bite. Lorne looked at Sha and she looked at him with identical expressions…of revulsion.

Not wanting to spit it out in front of her, he swallowed it, dropping the spoon in the bowl and wiping his mouth on the napkin. "Oh, my god, that's…"

"Disgusting? Revolting? Horrible?"

"All of the above." Taking their bowls to the kitchen, he set them in the sink and for once didn't bother to wash them right away. "Sorry."

"No worries." She led the way to the living room, going to the DVDs and making a choice. "What did you put in it?"

"We didn't have what I needed so I had to improvise. _Not_ one of my better ideas." He shrugged as he seated himself in his usual spot on the end of the sofa close to the rocker, Sha surprising him by stretching out next to him with her feet over his lap, her backside touching the outside of his thigh, and the remote in one hand. His entire body tensed with the effort to control certain involuntary responses that he hoped she wouldn't notice. And because of it he found it impossible to concentrate on the movie.

Not thirty minutes into it, Sha was asleep. He slipped the remote from under her hand lying across her stomach and shut off the television. Now his only problem was how to get her into bed and preserve his dignity at the same time. Grinning internally, he reminded himself that it had been too late for that the day he woke up chained to the bed.

Easing from under her legs, he stood and moved the table out of his way. Slipping one arm under her knees and the other under her shoulders, he held her against his chest. She moaned in her sleep, one arm snaking around his neck as she snuggled closer making his already painful situation worse. Instead of taking her to the bedroom, he sat in the rocker with her on his lap, using his feet to rock them back and forth. If he took her to bed now, he wouldn't be responsible for his actions. Not that he'd take advantage of her while she slept. Never that. But he was sorely tempted to wake her up and see if she was amenable to his idea for easing his discomfort. That sounded selfish in his head and probably would to her as well.

She turned her and the cold end of her nose touched the side of his neck replacing the dessert fail as his worst idea ever.

It also brought to mind all the memories he'd been able to sort out the last few days. He was remembering more every day and was hopeful that soon he'd be himself again, wondering if that were such a good thing. Since he'd been here, yes, he did have the urge to leave, to find the place where he belonged. But somehow he'd managed to bury that part of him, using his amnesia as an excuse.

His time with Sha had made him sloppy in his manner, speech and dress. Not at all like the career military man he knew himself to be. But still, it made him happy. Closing his eyes, he let his mind drift as the rocker sang a gentle tune that eventually lulled him to sleep as well.

~~O~~

Morning dawned cloudy and dreary rain threatening to fall making the cats edgy. They sat on the living room rug staring at the humans, Lorne in the rocking chair with "Mom" on his lap.

Suzie and Flash shared a look then Suzie jumped up on the arm of the sofa, reaching out a paw to tap Mom on the cheek. When Shannon opened her eyes, Suzie rejoined Flash on the floor for their morning feed-us-_now_ duet.

~~O~~

Shannon opened her eyes, yawned and looked around, surprised to find herself in Lorne's lap, the two of them in the rocking chair. His arms had relaxed though one was still draped over her hip. Encircling his wrist, she moved his hand and laid it on his chest before attempting to get up without waking him. Lifting one leg off the arm of the chair, she tried to touch the floor. That didn't work so she turned onto her backside and tried again.

At that moment, Lorne awoke, both arms going around her to keep her from falling. She panicked, clutching at his arm with her free hand, her legs flailing and the next thing she knew, the rocker had tilted backwards, jarring to a stop when it hit the floor.

"Ow!" Lorne's eyes squeezed shut at the impact.

"Sorry! Sorry! You okay?" Shannon climbed off his lap, careful not to injure him further. Not knowing what to do to help, she stood out of the way. The cats halted their chorus and retreated post haste to the kitchen.

"Yeah. Your hip jammed the belt buckle into my stomach." He motioned her out of the way then swung his legs up and over in an elegantly choreographed backflip. As he stood, he set the rocker upright. "Let's not do that again."

"Agreed." She went into the kitchen and put the kettle on for tea then took out oatmeal for breakfast, feeling a little self-conscious as he watched her while she worked. It was one reason she didn't want him in the workshop. That and he was _way_ too distracting. Just having him there virtually assured that something would go wrong because she would be paying attention to _him_ instead of what she was doing.

Setting a bowl in front of him, she watched him sip his tea, his eyes focused on a spot in front of his nose. "Lorne?"

"Yeah?"

"Sure you're okay? Didn't hit your head again?"

"No." Picking up his spoon, he stirred milk, butter and sugar into his oatmeal. "Uh, Sha, I should have told you this before, but I've been remembering more and more. I feel that any moment now it'll all just _be_ there, and I'll know everything."

At his words, Shannon couldn't stop the momentary flicker of fear. Forcing a smile, she gave his hand a squeeze, but before she could spout platitudes at him, his eyes saw the emotions she had tried to hide.

"What was that?"

~~O~~

"What d'you mean?" Sha looked down at her bowl, but Lorne knew what he'd seen in those dark eyes.

"Just for a moment you looked scared."

She scoffed scooping up a spoonful of oatmeal. "Didn't."

Lorne wasn't about to let her get away with a blatant untruth. "Did." He paused, working out in his mind what he'd seen. And suddenly, there it was. "You're afraid I'm going to leave, aren't you? You're afraid I'll leave and not come back."

Her voice soft, she looked away from him. "Why would I care if you go?"

"Because you'll miss me."

Pushing away from the table, she huffed at him. "Can't wait to have the place to m'self again."

Hearing the ache in her voice she tried to hide, he followed her to the sink, all evidence of teasing gone. "That's not it and you know it." He gently turned her to face him, but she kept her eyes on his shirt front. "You feel it too, don't you? This connection between us that's more than just physical attraction."

"Maybe."

Allowing just a little of the humor to creep back in, he tilted her head up with a finger under her chin, glad that she didn't fight him. "I'm thinkin' more than maybe."

Her hands twisted together uneasily, her chin pointing in the general direction of his room. "What about her? The one you're in love with?"

"Shannon…" her eyes finally met his, "…I may not remember everything, but I _do_ know I've never felt about another woman the way I feel when we're together." He gave her a slow smile and she returned it.

"So what're we gonna do about it?" Before she could finish, he'd covered her mouth with his, his hands resting on either side of her on the kitchen counter. Her hands slid up his arms and across his shoulders to touch the sides of his neck, her fingers brushing through the hair at his nape that he hadn't been cut since his arrival in this place. Somehow, she'd made him not forget, but see his other life as not as urgent as it had been in the beginning. Oh, the pull was still there, just not as strong.

Unlike before, when they'd shared her bed, the kiss didn't get out of control and soon, Sha eased back. "Um…I, uh, need to get to back to work."

"What're you doing now that the big project's done?"

Her eyes lit up with excitement. "It's a series of paintings of Botany beginning with the day I brought him to Blueberry Hill. I'll do a few each year showing how he's grown and changed. There's an album of photos in the shop. I'm working from those for now."

"Great idea. Could I see?"

"'Course."

He followed her out to the workshop and into the painting area. An open photo album lay on a table to the right. A partially completed painting rested on the easel, a photo of the bay clipped to the upper left corner. She gestured to the finished products off to one side anxious to know his opinion. "These are wonderful. You've really captured the exhilaration he feels when he runs so fast that the world…"

He trailed off, something tickling at the back of his brain. Closing his eyes, he tried to bring it into focus and saw himself at the controls of a ship, cylindrical in shape, knowing it wasn't like anything made on Earth. And suddenly some of what he'd been remembering made sense. The sensation of flying at speeds much faster that of sound. Stepping through a rippling pond and appearing on another world. Weapons that stun _and_ kill. Aliens that sucked the life from you and could give it back again. Battles in space. A city that flies.

He hadn't mentioned these particular memories to Sha because he didn't want her to think he was irrational or demented. To hide his hesitation, he reached for a small painting, a woman's leg the only visible object. The date on the back indicated that she'd painted it while in high school.

Lorne flipped the canvass over, his eyes widening at the irreverent nature of the work. A woman in a leotard, tutu and ballet slippers flew through the air, legs extended front and back in a grand jeté. However, this particular diva had just kicked a giant maraschino cherry from the top of a beautifully decorated cake.

"This is interesting." Holding it out so she could see it, he watched her face turn a bright shade of pink.

"Oh, uh, forgot that was there." She took it from him, almost overcome with the need to tell him to forget he'd seen it. "One of our assignments in a high school art class was to paint happiness and, well, at the time, I was a walking mass of hormones."

"Don't get it."

Now she made an involuntary giggle. "I'd been spending quite a bit of my free time thinking about, uh… At the time, was my belief that a woman couldn't find true happiness until she'd lost her…cherry."

Lorne couldn't help laughing out loud making her blush deepen. "And what did you find out?"

She paused for a moment of contemplation. "I learned that the cherry is only a small part of the cake. Metaphorically speakin'."

"And the cake is…"

"It's the relationship. Making love is only the cherry on the cake. It's important, but not the only thing that keeps two people together for a lifetime."

~~O~~

It was nearly lunch time so Shannon went to the kitchen and made two sandwiches. Wrapping one, she filled a thermos with hot tea, adding the notecard she'd drawn just that morning, carrying it all out to the workshop. Just as he had been doing for her these past few weeks, she placed the food on the table and knocked to let him know it was there then scampered back inside.

Standing in front of her closet, she stared at her wardrobe. Slacks and tops. Nothing but slacks and tops from one end to the other. With a growl, she slid the hangers from left to right trying to decide what to wear for the special dinner she had planned.

She'd given Lorne a few of her blank canvasses to use, curious to see his work aside from the sketches. But she also had a plan and needed him out of the way for a while. More of his memories had surfaced this morning, which meant that he'd likely be leaving soon. And she didn't want him to go without knowing how she felt. About herself. About him. About _them_ being together for the long term.

With a squeal of victory, she pulled a hanger from the very back of her closet. She pulled the plastic off, went to the mirror and held the uncovered garment in front of her.

She'd bought it for when she and Steven celebrated their second anniversary. It had never been worn and the tags were still attached. Hanging the dress on the outside of her closet door, she dug in the bottom until she found a pair of black leather boots. The dress was a little shorter than she liked so a pair of leggings joined the ensemble.

Next she went through her jewelry box and took out a necklace and earrings she'd made herself. Holding them up in front of her, she saw her reflection and realized that something would have to be done about her hair. She pulled the elastics from the braids, running her hands through the long strands to separate them. With a grimace she decided washing, conditioning and blow-drying would have to do.

~~O~~

Lorne heard the knock and decided it was time for a break. He opened the door and reached for the plate unwrapping the sandwich and taking a huge bite. Just as he was shutting the door, he saw the card that had been beneath it. Carrying it all to the love seat, he opened the card, grinning at what was written there.

_Please join me for dinner and a movie._

_Pick you up at seven._

_Dress fancy!_

_Sha_

He supposed she meant for him to shower, shave, comb his hair and tuck his shirt in. With the exception of the shower and clean clothes, he'd been careless about the rest. Tonight he'd do things differently.

With a light heart, he finished the sandwich, drank the tea and went back to work. Without the distractions of his job, he was nearly finished. Again, he let his subconscious do the thinking for him and what had come out brought even more memories to the surface. Some were good, like finding Teyla and bringing her, and her son, home. Others started out bad and ended on a high note. But mostly, they were…not good.

Dismissing his thoughts, he concentrated on the second painting.

~~O~~

Shannon had been out of the shower only a few minutes when she heard the front door open and close. Though she couldn't hear the words, she could tell by the tone that Lorne was talking to the cats, probably feeding them as well.

She finished drying off, hung the towel on the bar inside the shower then faced the bathroom mirror trying to decide what to do with her hair having little idea how to go about it. Well, she would just do what she usually did: improvise.

After blow drying, she gathered her hair together on top of her head letting the long curly strands fall around her face making her look wind-blown and, she hoped, sexy. In the bedroom, she quickly pulled on a matching pair of panties and camisole not able to make herself go without.

The leggings came next then the dress. She'd lost weight since its purchase though it still looked good, not too tight and not too loose. Going to the mirror, she put on the necklace she'd chosen, an S-shaped pendant in silver inset with a stone made of black onyx. It nestled in the hollow of her throat above the v-shaped neckline of the dress. The matching dangly earrings swayed as she turned her head.

A ding came from the kitchen signaling that it was time to check on dinner. It wasn't elegant or elaborate, but it was the best she could do with the supplies on hand.

Shoving her feet into the boots, she hurried out to the kitchen to take the casserole from the oven and set it on a trivet in the middle of the table. From the refrigerator she took a salad made with tomatoes, bell peppers and green beans tossed with Italian dressing. A bottle of her favorite Coonawara Cabernet Sauvignon joined them.

She took a pair of tarnished silver candle holders from a drawer, lit the white tapers then flipped off the lights, leaving only the candles and the glow from the fire to illuminate the room.

Brushing her hands down the front of her dress, she went to Lorne's door. Putting on a smile, she knocked. The door opened immediately and the sight of him took her breath away.

Lorne looked more handsome than ever in dark blue jeans and a flannel shirt, the midnight blue and black plaid making his eyes seem even bluer. He'd tucked the shirt in and rolled the sleeves down to his wrists.

His hair, military short when he'd first came to her, now reached below his collar and she found that she actually preferred the shorter version though she had no complaints with its present length. The color had changed as well. Once streaked dark blonde by the summer sun in the northern hemisphere, it had changed to a dark brown color that suited him well. Though, again, she had no complaints. He could be bald and she wouldn't care.

"Hi."

His eyes dropped down to her feet and made a slow and easy journey back up to her face, his smile telling her he liked what he saw. "Hi."

~~O~~

When he opened the door, Lorne's heart leapt into his throat. He'd always thought Sha beautiful, but now she was breathtaking.

The long-sleeved charcoal gray herringbone sweater dress stopped about ten centimeters above her knees. The ruffled hemline fluttered as she moved drawing his attention to her legs and black leather boots with silver buckles. The heels were enough to bring her a little closer to his height and it was through sheer will power alone that he was able to keep from sweeping her into his arms and kissing her senseless. "You look…amazing."

"So do you." Extending his elbow, he escorted her to the table, held her chair then seated himself before opening the wine and pouring them each a glass while she served the casserole and salad.

Eating in silence, the music playing softly in the background, they eventually relaxed enough to talk, mostly about art. Later, she told him about her parents and how they'd been killed in a car accident when she was sixteen. Her father had been a small town doctor and her mother a teacher. Being both practical and conservative, they often marveled at the fact that they'd somehow managed to produce a child with the ability to create works of art that had drawn the attention of art critics all across Australia and New Zealand from a very young age.

~~O~~

Dinner was over and the wine bottle empty when Lorne pushed away from the table. Shannon expected him to carry the dishes to the sink just as he always did at the end of a meal, but not this time.

Taking her hand, he brought her to her feet, leading her to the area in front of the fireplace. He took her in his arms, bringing their clasped hands between them. They swayed, turning slowly in the glow from the fire.

When the first song ended and the next one began, she moved her hands to his shoulders and up around his neck as his hands settled around her waist. She snuggled into his warm embrace, thinking that if she could stay just like this for the rest of her life, she'd be content. But she didn't want to just be content. She wanted more. Tonight, she wanted _him_.

Lifting her head from his shoulder, she framed his face with her palms, kissing him and he kissed her back. Stepping out of his arms, she led the way to his bedroom.

"Sha?"

"You said dinner and a movie first." He grinned at the memory making her smile as she held tight to his hand. "But I can't wait. Oh, Lorne, please make love with me tonight."

~~O~~

Lorne didn't need to be asked twice. He scooped her up and carried her into the bedroom, kicking the door closed so they wouldn't be disturbed by the cats again.

In here too, a fire crackled in the fireplace creating a warm glow as it flickered and danced to an unknown tune.

Laying her gently on the bed, he removed her boots then toed off his sneakers before joining her. They'd slept in the same bed together more than once, but this time was different.

This time their entire world would change.

**TBC**


	9. Take to the Sky

**A/N:** Thanks once again to ladygris for doing that thing she does so well! And Creepy Estelle was briefly included in this chapter with the permission the aforementioned lg.

Grazi!

~Sandy

**Turning the Page**

**Chapter 9**

**Take to the Sky**

Shannon let her feet rest on the backs of his thighs, her toes flexing and rubbing up and down. The hem of her dress slid up until she was exposed up to her hips. He took the hint and starting at her knee, dragged his palm slowly along the outside of her thigh and up under the edge of the soft knit material. As she had the first time they'd slept in the same bed, she rolled him onto his back so she could have as much of her touching him as possible even through the layers of their clothing.

His touch, always gentle, now felt as if he were holding onto the one thing that might save him and it thrilled her that she could do that for him. Knowing that he was almost as desperate for her as she for him made her bold and daring, more so than she'd ever been with a man. Not that there had been that many.

She'd met Sean in her multimedia class at university, and he'd been the first man with whom she'd ever been intimate. They'd even talked about marriage in a maybe-after-we've-graduated way.

Then she met Steven and had found the love of her life.

Now here she was with Lorne, demanding that he make love to her. She thought she'd feel as if she was being unfaithful to Steven's memory, but it didn't happen. Somehow, she sensed that Steven would approve, that he would want her to be happy.

Lorne touched her in places she'd forgotten existed and not just with his hands. The artist in him appealed to her on every level and the love she had for Botany, Suzie and Flash was reflected in his eyes, as if they'd become a part of him as well. And it was there in the way he looked at her, especially now that they were about to become so much more than just two people thrown together by chance.

She unbuttoned his shirt, yanking it from the waistband of his jeans then went to work on this belt, so consumed by want that she wasn't able to get a grip on the leather strip. With a small chuckle, he stilled her movements, lifting her hands one at a time to kiss the backs of her fingers. The contact was so soft, so tiny, yet so intense that it made her gasp out loud. "Lorne…please."

"Evan. My name is Evan. And I know. Me too." His eyes met hers, glazed desire. "But we need to slow down." Turning her left hand over, his lips touched her palm. Her eyelids fluttered shut at the sensation as his lips continued to blaze a trail of feathery kisses over her wrist, first kissing then sucking on the pulse point.

Her world tilted making her head spin and she found herself looking up into his handsome face, but when her hands went back to his belt, he stilled them. "Sha, I…I don't have…what about…we need…" Shannon could see his frustration at not being able to voice his thoughts.

"No worries. I won't ever be able to have children." At the look in his eyes, she again framed his face, her thumbs brushing over his cheeks and just touching the corners of his mouth. "Do _not_ feel sorry for me. I've come to terms with it. And if you're worried about…anything else, don't be." Shannon saw the acceptance in his eyes, and with that one glance, he'd given her his complete, unconditional trust. Now it was time for her to give it back. "I don't _want_ to go slow. Please…"

A smile unlike any she'd seen to date lit up his features, the blue of his eyes sparkling in a way similar to yet different from when he talked about flying. "As you wish." He leaned down to kiss her and her last coherent thought was of how far she'd come in just these last few weeks. She'd changed from a lonely recluse to a woman who had begun to crave human contact once again. He should know what having him here had done for her and she would tell him. But later. Much later.

~~O~~

Bright sunshine flitted over Lorne's closed eyelids and the sounds of life came to him telling him it was later than he thought though he couldn't bring himself to care at the moment. A chilly breeze touched his bare shoulders and he pulled the covers up to his neck.

Just as he was about to return to the land of nod, an insistent prodding in the middle of his back brought him to wakefulness. Groaning, he twitched his shoulders. "Lemme 'lone, Botany. 'M tryin' t' sleep." Again he was poked, harder this time. "Jus' a few more minutes, boy. Now go _'__way_." He was jolted to full awareness when a hand slipped under his arm to his chest, sliding down below his waist and a voice husky with something other than sleep whispered in his ear. He inhaled suddenly, the sensation at once pleasing and painful.

"Can a horse do this?"

"Mmm. Definitely not. Mornin'." He rolled onto his back while Sha lay on her right side next to him. Draping herself over him, she let her left leg fall in between his thighs with her left arm on his chest over his heart and her head resting on his shoulder.

"Mornin'." She rose up onto her right elbow to kiss him as her hand went back to what it had been doing.

They'd both been ravenous and insatiable the night before. He always would be with her and sensed the same from her. The friction of their bare skin built the passion to fever pitch once again. She made a sound in the back of her throat and the last vestiges of sleep disappeared as he granted that unspoken request.

~~O~~

Suzie and Flash were lounging on the love seat in attitudes that befitted their status as Mom's favorites. They looked so regal and proud Shannon just had to capture it. She'd just added her SC to the lower right corner of the finished product when both cats pricked up their ears and ran to the door. They jumped up on the table pawing at the doorknob to get out.

When Shannon got close she heard voices in the yard. Four of them, all male. The crossbow had been placed on a nearby shelf instead of with the rest of her medieval collection just in case. She cocked it, inserted an arrow and waited for the men to pass. Bringing the weapon up, she had already flipped the safety off when she heard one of them say Lorne's name and knew they were here to take him away.

Cracking the door she saw two facing toward the shed, the third and fourth with their backs to her. With a silent snicker, she thought _bad __idea!_ Only one of them wore a uniform, all black, with a leather jacket in deference to the cool temperatures. He turned and her eyes widened in recognition.

Because she'd been painting, she was wearing only her underthings and smock. If everything Lorne had told her about these men was true, and she had no reason to disbelieve him, her state of undress would _not_ cause them to underestimate her. Still, as they said in the American westerns her dad had loved to watch, she had the drop on 'em.

Using her bare foot to ease the door all the way open, she stepped into the doorway, aiming for the one who seemed the most dangerous, the man in black. "That's far enough, boys."

Startled, they turned to face her, the one in uniform holding his arms out away from his body in an eerily similar fashion to Lorne that first day. He took two steps, coming to stand in front of the others, marking him as their leader.

"My name is…"

"I _know_ who you are." She pointed the crossbow at each as she said their names. "Sheppard, Woolsey, Rodney and…" The fourth man came from behind Sheppard making her breath catch. She couldn't say the name. This man had died in a horrendous explosion. How could he be here now? "How'd you get here?"

"That's not important." Sheppard and Woolsey shared an unreadable glance. "We're looking for Evan Lorne."

"Not here."

Now Woolsey spoke, his voice authoritative and well-modulated, a man used to speaking before large groups of people. From what Lorne had told her, he was a diplomat or something. He used words to persuade others to his way of thinking. "Ms. Coyle, we have confirmation that he's been seen on your property. Please take us to him."

"Don't listen very well, do ya? I _said_ he's not _here_. Gone for a ride." Lowering the crossbow, she didn't miss the fact that Rodney and the other one had been holding their breath. She headed for the group and they parted to let her through. At the front door, she turned to look at them with scorn, thinking them less intelligent than Lorne had indicated as they gaped at her. "You comin' or not? I'll make coffee."

Inside, she nodded in the direction of the living room and Lorne's friends made themselves comfortable on the sofa. The one called Rodney made to sit in her rocking chair, moving to the armchair in the corner when she shot him a glare, muttering under his breath.

While the coffee brewed, Shannon went into the bedroom, emerging a few minutes later fully dressed to find the cats glaring holes in the foreheads of all four men. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep from staring at Carson. And he looked back with compassionate eyes the same color as Lorne's.

Sheppard gave the appearance of being at ease, one leg resting on the knee of the other. As an artist, she was observant of the world around her, and as such was better equipped than most to read body language. That along with her instincts had already told her he was the most dangerous of them all.

And Flash, the little traitor, sauntered over and jumped in his lap. He obediently rubbed under her chin, making her purr, but his attention never wavered from Shannon though he went to great lengths to make it appear otherwise.

Not to be outdone, Suzie went to Rodney and waited to be noticed. When he ignored her, she jumped up on the arm of the chair and stared at him until he gave in, rubbing her from head to tail tip over and over again as if he'd done it before.

Shannon carried a tray with five mismatched mugs and a pot of coffee to the table and set it down, waiting while they served themselves. She hadn't brought milk and sugar guessing, correctly it seemed, that they all took it black.

Again, her gazed strayed to the man who should be dead. Setting his mug on the table, he gave her a smile. "What is it, love?"

Without thinking, she blurted out, "You died!" He chuckled, his cheeks dimpling, the skin around his eyes crinkling. "How can you be here if…"

"That's a very long and complicated story, m'dear."

Dragging the rocker to where she could see all of them, Shannon sat down. "I can keep a secret."

Woolsey cleared his throat. "That is one of the reason's we're here, Ms. Coyle." He reached into his breast pocket, withdrawing several folded sheets of paper. "The work we do is highly classified. We would like you to sign this document."

"What is it?"

Smiling, Sheppard reached for his mug. "Just something to insure that anything Lorne might have told you will stay between the two of you."

Ignoring the papers Woolsey had laid on the table, she too sipped her coffee. "How'd you know where to find us…him?"

Sheppard responded to her question. "He was reported missing a few weeks ago by the Australian authorities after the plane he was test flying disappeared off the radar. His picture was circulated in the area that he'd last been reported being seen. After that, McKay did his magic and…"

"Magic? Huh!" Rodney interrupted. "We got _lucky!_"

Ignoring Rodney's outburst, Sheppard continued. "He's my second-in-command on our base and we'd kinda like to have him back. Teldy's not too happy about having to do all his work. Where'd he go on this ride?"

"I'm not his mum _or_ his wife. He doesn't have to tell me where he's goin'." As if her words had summoned him, she heard the pounding of horse's hooves on the hard ground and Lorne's voice calling her name. She ran out onto the porch.

"Shannon!" He jumped off Botany's back before he'd come to a complete stop, taking the three steps up to the porch in a single bound. Picking her up, he swung her around in a circle making her squeal.

"You got your memory back didn't you? All of it?" He nodded, swirling her around again. "That's great!" She was happy for him at the same time her stomach dropped. He set her on her feet and they continued to embrace. She gripped him tight, not wanting to let go as he leaned down to claim a kiss in celebration.

Before their lips could make contact, Lorne heard an all too familiar voice.

"You can tell us all about it in your official report." Sheppard stepped out onto the porch, glancing from one to the other, his hazel eyes missing nothing.

~~O~~

"Colonel!" Lorne released Shannon, immediately falling into his accustomed military posture, back straight, smile falling away to be replaced by the bland mask he normally wore though now it felt odd. Looking past his commanding officer, he nodded to the others. "Mr. Woolsey…Dr. McKay…Dr. Beckett."

Shannon touched him on the arm lowering her voice to a stage whisper. "You told me he _died_."

Again Carson chuckled. "Been spillin' secrets, have ya, Evan?"

Not knowing what to say, Lorne shrugged sheepishly.

"We've been looking for you for over a month, Colonel Lorne," Woolsey informed him.

"Um…Colonel?"

Grinning, Sheppard clapped him on the shoulder. "Yeah. Missed your promotion to Lieutenant Colonel while you were lost."

Carson's eyes tracked from Lorne to Shannon and back grinning again. "He wasnae lost, John. The lad was hidin'."

Woolsey backed up and returned to his seat on the sofa along with the others, except Rodney. He had an Ancient scanner out, running it over Lorne's body and earning himself a group glare for his trouble. "What?" Then he showed the data to Sheppard. "That explains why we couldn't find him. His transponder's gone."

Her forehead wrinkled in thought, Shannon asked, "What's it look like?"

Sheppard shrugged at Lorne's questioning glance then he answered, "Metallic, about the size of a grain of rice."

Without a word, Shannon went into his bedroom, the one he hadn't slept in for almost a week, returning with a small bottle. "This it?" She handed it to Carson.

"Aye." Carson held the bottle while Rodney scanned it too.

"Completely inert, Carson, just as I _said_ it would be or we'd have found him _weeks_ ago."

"Came outta the cut on his left arm."

"Thanks for savin' it, love."

Rodney turned in a circle, tapping keys on the scanner, his brow furrowed in thought. Snapping his fingers to get her attention, he waved a hand. "What's the power source for this?"

"Why d'ya wanna know?" Shannon's eyes narrowed suspiciously. Sheppard was the one to answer her question.

"He's insatiably curious about, well, everything." When she didn't respond, he gave her the Sheppard half-smile that had melted more than a few female hearts in two different galaxies. But he wasn't dealing with your average woman. It didn't work on her. She returned his smile with a glare.

Turning back to the physicist, she led him out the side door and around the back to what looked like an old fashioned basement entrance. Tapping a code into the keypad, the doors swung open and Rodney followed her down the stairs to a room filled with, to her, futuristic.

"My husband built it."

Rodney scanned the equipment, examining the data as if it were some new alien tech he'd just located right here on his home planet. "He was a genius!"

"Yes, he was." The pride in her husband's accomplishments came through loud and clear. And for once Rodney didn't comment on the veiled poke at his own intelligence.

She was more than content to allow him to examine the equipment. But when he attempted to adjust the settings to "improve" the functionality, she shoved him toward the door without so much as a single word of apology. His outrage and indignation met with the same as she wondered how the blonde doctor could possibly have chosen _him_ over Lorne.

Woolsey interrupted their disagreement by standing and tugging on the bottom of his jacket. "Ms. Coyle, thank you for your hospitality. However, I'm afraid we must be going. I encourage you to sign the non-disclosure agreement and return it to me as soon as possible." He handed her a card with his name, phone number and email address. Turning to Lorne, he gestured toward the door. "Are you ready to go, Colonel?"

~~O~~

Lorne hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. "Yes, sir." He followed his colleagues through the yard and around the side of the greenhouse, stopping at the corner to look back. His ATA gene allowed him to feel as well as hear the Jumper decloak and the hatch open.

Carson came up beside him, a perceptive smile on his face. "Go on, lad. Take your leave."

Over his shoulder, Lorne called out, "Could I have a few minutes, Colonel?"

"Sure. We'll just wait here."

The sadness in the four faces changed to excitement as he neared. Lorne squatted in front of the cats, rubbing their heads. "You two behave for Mom." Naturally they ignored him, meowing plaintively when he stood to draw a hand down Botany's nose. The bay pushed him with his head and his tail flicked in what Lorne knew indicated displeasure. "Sorry, boy. I gotta go."

Lastly, he faced Sha, his eyes darting over her, imprinting her in his memory. His arms lifted from where they hung at his sides as she threw herself into his embrace, making him stumble back a step. He pulled back to look into those black-as-night eyes once more. A quick glance over his shoulder told him they were as alone as possible. Knowing he wouldn't be able to tell her where he was going or even if he'd be able to return, he leaned down to capture her lips one last time, using that to convey the emotions he wasn't able bring himself to voice.

~~O~~

Unable to help herself, Shannon clutched at Lorne, her mind and body begging for him to stay yet knowing his responsibilities wouldn't allow it. Finally releasing him, she watched as he backed up, turned and jogged out of sight. It was all she could do to stop herself from calling out to him. She continued to stare at the spot where he'd disappeared when a strange sound drew her attention. Her mouth dropped open when a cylindrical ship rose above the greenhouse, wavered and disappeared as it took to the sky. The sketches of these ships she'd seen, well, she'd thought they were figments, his mind playing tricks on him, confusing something he'd read about with his memories of reality. Now she knew that there was much more going on than she would ever have suspected.

~~O~~

Rodney sat behind the pilot's chair tapping at the screen of his tablet, more than a little annoyed that Woolsey now occupied the seat he thought of as his, ignoring the voices coming from the rear compartment.

~~O~~

"…so ye just this day regained your full memory?" Carson checked the readout for Lorne's vitals on the scanner display finding them satisfactory considering what he'd been through.

"Yeah. It came back in bits and pieces until I returned to the crash site and found my dog tags." Lorne didn't really mind submitting to Carson's exam. It saved him from having to talk to his CO and the expedition commander. "Why couldn't I remember, doc?"

"Well, lad, the way I see it, after recent events your brain needed a vacation, that's why ye took leave in the first place. Ye just had the misfortune of havin' a head injury on top o' it. Everythin' came back when ye were ready." Putting away the equipment of his trade, Carson gave Lorne an understanding smile, lowering his voice. "I know what it's like ta leave someone you care about behind."

"Excuse me?"

"Yer not the first man to fall hard for a woman he just met, lad."

A sheepish grin turned up the corners of Lorne's mouth as he glanced over Carson's shoulder. Lowering his voice even further, he nodded at his CO's back. "He still seeing Dr. Cole?"

"Och, no. They had a bit of a tiff and she broke it off." Trying to make the movement seem natural, he nodded to his left. "Now she's with…"

Nodding back, Lorne knew that his friend was severely understating the situation. Amanda and Sheppard used to have loud arguments that had approached the level of legend. It didn't surprise him one bit that they were no longer together, though he was more than a little startled to know that she and Woolsey were now an item.

~~O~~

Two days after she watched Lorne fly away, Shannon received a visit from Senior Constable Bobby Hasham. She surprised him by flying into town with him to personally make the arrangements for having the sculpture moved from Blueberry Hill to the dedication site.

All during the flight, she sat in the co-pilot's seat of the chopper staring out the window not speaking. Bobby thought nothing of it as they'd only flown together a few times in the years she'd been living in the area and she'd done the same thing each time.

She stayed the night at the local bed and breakfast, conferred with the town council the next day then Bobby flew her home again. Just before he took off, she told him to return every two weeks until she told him to stop.

What the Senior Constable didn't know is that, while in town, Shannon had also contacted her solicitor's office to let them know she didn't wish to renew the lease for the current tenants of her condo. She also began making plans for redecorating as well as securing a place for Botany to be boarded not far from the condo, a place that would allow him to run free much of the time as he did now. The cats would go with her, of course.

After a week of him being gone, Shannon finally went into the room that had been Lorne's…Evan's while he'd been here. As always, the bed was perfectly made and the clothes were hung neatly in the closet. In the toilet, the towels were folded and stacked on the shelf along with sheets and an extra blanket. It didn't surprise her to find out that he'd also cleaned the ashes out of the fireplace as he'd done so with all three as long as he'd been there.

He'd left the sketch pad behind though, the pencils standing in a cup with a cracked rim and broken handle. Taking the pad, she perched on the side of the bed flipping through the pages seeing where he'd added names to the faces in order to track his memories.

She inhaled sharply when she reached the last few pages. On them he'd drawn her. Over and over again. Each was marked with lowercase "el" in the bottom right corner and labeled "day 1", "day 2", and so forth. But the last page was the most telling, the most…astonishing.

The upper half of the page was of her sleeping, hair spread over the pillow, a slight smile on her face and the quilt pulled up to her neck, Flash and Suzie curled up at her feet.

On the lower half Evan had drawn the two of them cuddled together in his bed asleep, her head on his chest and his arms around her, clothing scattered over the floor. With a delighted grin, she recognized the scene from the first night they'd been together.

Carrying the pad into her room, she turned to that page, setting it on the dresser propped up next to the photo of her and Steven.

~~O~~

Back on Atlantis, once he'd been certified fit for duty, life had returned to what passed for normal for Evan. Or something close to it. While working, he used his ability to compartmentalize his emotions in order to get the job done. But when he returned to his quarters at the end of the day, every thought turned to Shannon and her little menagerie.

In the corner of his room, his easel held a painting he still hadn't finished. Only this one wasn't of Atlantis. It was a series of vignettes, moments that he'd spent with Sha, with Botany, with the cats. He'd even done one of the robbers riding away, one with an arrow stuck in his ass remembering when the same thing had happened to Rodney.

Sitting at his desk, he stared at the screen of his computer tugging on his lower lip watching the blinking cursor at the top of a blank document. He didn't have an email address for Sha but he could write her a letter. Old fashioned, but it was the only way to reach her. Trouble was he had no idea what to say. He still hadn't figured it out when the computer went into power saver mode.

With a grunt of frustration, he started to close the laptop when a beep informed him of a new email. It came from Sheppard advising that he was being assigned TDY aboard the _Hammond_ for a special mission. He was scheduled to leave in two days and would be gone for over a month.

Curbing his desire to tell Sheppard to "stuff it" he acknowledged acceptance before going to the closet for his duffle bag, tossing it on the dresser. His eye caught a glimpse of white among the gray, khaki and black that dominated his wardrobe. Touching the fabric, he thought back to the first time he'd worn the white and red plaid shirt. Sha had given him her trust for the first time that day by releasing him from the handcuffs.

For the first time in his military career, he'd purposely left vital information out of an official report. The guilt he'd felt for that act had forced him to confess. Sheppard hadn't asked for details, and instead of the reprimand he'd expected, his CO had dismissed his omission stating it was information that Woolsey, Landry, O'Neill and the IOA didn't need to know…ever.

Lorne changed out of his uniform and into his off duty gear of chinos, sneakers and a long-sleeved T-shirt to join his team for dinner in the Mess Hall. As he weaved between the tables, he ignored the flirtatious smile from a young woman who worked under Dr. Zelenka. In the past, he'd returned her attention, giving her a cheeky grin that told her he was interested. And he had been. Past tense.

Now, he had no desire to make pretenses and felt bad when her smile of greeting turned to disappointment at his expressionless nod. If what he'd heard about Dr. Estelle Monroe was true, he could be in for a rough time in the upcoming months. Well, once he returned from TDY.

**Five Weeks Later**

Tossing his duffle bag in a corner, Evan stripped out of his uniform and went into the bathroom for a shower. Standing under the hot water, he let it wash away the dirt and sweat and grime of his last offworld mission with the _Hammond_. He'd been in command of the ship's military contingent while they surveyed a group of planets that didn't have Stargates and little accompanying descriptions in the Ancient database.

The senior military officers of the SGC were rotating through this particular assignment so no one of them had to be gone for more than a few weeks at a time. Teldy was up next and the Major was not happy though she'd never say so. Evan had known Anne since Germany when they'd become friends following an incident that could have ended his military career before it had gotten started. In fact, it was her testimony that resulted in the charges being dropped.

Her relationship with one of the medical doctors had recently taken a more serious turn and he was certain she wanted to maintain that momentum. Something that was difficult to do with them separated by her assignment. But this was the life she'd chosen. Besides, Anne was as tenacious as a terrier. She'd make it work, he was certain.

He shut the water off dried his hair with a towel then wrapped that same towel around his waist on the way to his desk. He sat down, pulling his computer close and turning it on. While it booted up, he again tried to compose a letter to Sha but couldn't even get through the salutation.

A beep brought him out of his musings. Another priority message, this time from Woolsey. Most of his emails were informational and boring. But being a good soldier, he dutifully read each and every one all the way through. This one, however, was quite different. It was addressed for his eyes only with no previous sender address.

All emails were routed through an elaborate virus scanning program created by Dr. Zelenka so it presented no danger to Atlantis or it would never have reached him. Clicking on the email, he sat up straight, the air in his lungs suddenly thickening until he had to force himself to breathe. It had obviously come from Sha though that wasn't the most surprising element. She was inviting him to come for a visit. Sort of.

He scooped his headset from the desk and had just hooked it over his ear when the PA activated. Woolsey's voice came on informing everyone that the city would be closing down for the next ten days to perform necessary repairs and computer upgrades. All unnecessary personnel would be given the next two week off. By the time the diplomat had finished announcing that their time off would commence the next morning, Evan had retrieved his duffle bag and dumped the dirty uniforms into the laundry basket in the corner.

Going to the closet, he took out his off duty wear, including the clothes he'd worn when he left Blueberry Hill, folded everything neatly and placed it in the bag. The garment bags that held his dress uniform were hung on the back of the bathroom door as he whipped off the towel and dressed for bed though he doubted he'd sleep.

Going back to the computer, he called up the sites he would need and quickly made travel arrangements. That done, he went to the corner and carried the easel into the light. Slipping into the chambray shirt he wore to protect his clothing, he prepared his paints and went to work.

~~O~~

The gallery was a mass of evening gowns and tuxedoes making the man who's just entered feel more than a little out of place. But he didn't care. He wandered around the room looking for the guest of honor. He'd just located her when a grouping of paintings caught his attention. Stepping closer, his eyes widened as he realized that the one common element each painting possessed was himself.

Women in fancy gowns and elaborately done hair, their hands, necks, ears, and in some cases heads, adorned with an abundance of overpriced jewelry, were clustered in front of them. They'd obviously been indulging quite liberally in the free-flowing alcohol causing their laughter to be too loud and their language more than a little earthy as they pointed and speculated on various aspects of his physical attributes.

Ducking his head, his hand to his forehead trying not to be noticed, he attempted to get lost in the crowd. His retreat, however, was blocked as the kitchen staff came through pushing carts loaded with food to replenish the buffet. One of the women saw him and alerted her friends.

"There he is!"

"It's him!"

"Oh, look! He's _American!_"

"And a _pilot!_"

Before he could make his escape, he was surrounded by women, the waves of perfume making him dizzy. They wouldn't stop touching him, on the arms, shoulders and hair, taking his hands and comparing them to the images on the canvasses. They fingered the medals and awards pinned to his dress uniform. A couple of brave souls even grabbed his butt making him jump. "Oh! Uh, that's…that's kind of you, ladies, but…"

"Oh! Even his _voice_ is gorgeous!"

"Wow! _Feel_ his biceps! He must be _strong!_"

"Ladies, _please!_ I would just like to…"

The cacophony of voices came to an abrupt halt at the sound of a shrill whistle. As one, the group turned to the source and were faced with the scowling face of the artist whose work they'd come to admire and, hopefully, purchase for vast sums of cash.

"Move on, ladies. This one's mine."

Groans of disappointment swept through the group as they dispersed, disappearing into the throng of Sydney's elite, shaking their heads and muttering that it was a shame he wasn't single.

Passing a hand through his hair, Evan checked that his uniform wasn't too out of kilter, tugging on the sleeves of his jacket before addressing his rescuer. "Thanks."

Shannon crossed her arms, letting her gaze travel from his head down to his spit shined dress shoes and back, shaking her head. "Why am I always pulling your bum out of the fire, Lorne?"

**TBC**


	10. Today and Forever

**A/N:** Once again, thanks so much to ladygris for all her help with this story. It started out as a thank you to ShaViva, but it took on a life of its own and it has been a fun ride!

Thanks a bunch,

~Sandy

**Turning the Page**

**Chapter 10**

**Today and Forever**

All Evan could do was look at Sha. In the weeks since they'd seen each other she had changed. Her long hair was gone, cut to above her shoulders, the wavy strands bouncing as she turned her head to speak to someone. The dress she wore fit her curves as if it had been made just for her, the slit on the side showing the length of her leg from thigh down to where her feet were tucked into strappy heels.

And if that wasn't enough to drive him crazy, the color, Venetian red, matched the color on her lips which in turn made him think of the nights they'd spent together sleeping or making love. Trying to be casual about it, he checked that his jacket was closed in the front to hide what seeing her again did to him. When she faced him once more, he leaned close. "Can we speak privately for a few minutes?"

Her lips turned upward in a smirk. "Oh, it'll take longer than that just for the hello kiss."

He returned the smile, his cheeks dimpling. "Anything more will have to wait. Sheppard, Woolsey and Carson will be here soon with their dates. I'd like for them _not_ to come looking for me again."

Shannon huffed in pretend annoyance. "Fine." Taking him by the hand, she led the way out a side door to a garden lit by twinkle lights. The temperatures had been unseasonably warm lately though it was a bit on the chilly side tonight so they had the place to themselves. He didn't care as long as they were together.

Not normally one to go to extremes when it came to public displays of affection, he went against his nature just this once. The door had barely closed when Evan swept Shannon into his arms for a kiss which she returned with zeal. His hand blazed a trail down her side to slip inside the slit, feathering over the skin of her thigh. But he didn't stop there.

Bringing his hand up under her dress and back, he slid his fingers beneath the elastic of her lacy bikini panties to give her firm backside a squeeze. And just like another time when he'd done something daring, he hadn't considered the consequences.

Shannon gasped, wrapped one leg around him as she pulled her mouth from his and began unbuttoning his jacket. While she did that he dragged his lips along her jawline to scrape his teeth on that spot behind her ear that made her…

His head snapped up at the sound of a door opening followed by a male voice filled with humor.

"Jeez, Shanny, why can't you use the broom closet like everyone else?"

Evan and Shannon sorted themselves out then Evan turned to see who had intruded on their privacy. The man was dark-haired, obviously Italian, mid-thirties, very handsome and smirking.

"What do you _want_, Tony?" Shannon put her hand out and Tony handed her the mirror he carried for her. She used it to check her face while Evan adjusted his clothes and ran a hand through his hair.

"Sorry, to interrupt, but some people are at the main entrance." He eyed Evan though his words were for Shannon. "Said they were invited, but aren't on the list."

"Who are they?" She handed the mirror to Evan, waited while he used it then returned it to Tony and took Evan's hand.

Tony shrugged rolling his eyes. "Not sure, but the one with the biggest _mouth_ said his name was Sheppard. Doesn't much like takin' no for an answer. Not that the others are much better."

Evan spoke for the first time since the other man had joined them. "They're with me." When Tony just stared, he explained. "The invitation said I could bring guests so I thought, why not?"

Laughing, Shannon led the way back inside. "We'll take care of it."

As they passed him, Evan stuck his hand out and the Italian took it. "Evan Lorne. Pleased to meet…" But Shannon hadn't stopped walking and their hands were pulled apart.

Tony chuckled as he watched the couple being swallowed up by the crowd. "Likewise."

~~O~~

John, Woolsey, Carson and Evan stood together in front of the paintings from Evan's time at Blueberry Hill while Teyla, Amanda and Alison wandered the room. They were sipping champagne and munching on snacks from the buffet while Evan bore their teasing in the only way possible. He ignored it.

When the crowd thickened around them, Woolsey led the way to an unoccupied corner. But John wasn't done. "So, Lorne, tell us about the handcuffs."

Carson's eyes lit up with curiosity. "Aye. That _has_ to be an interestin' story, lad."

Taking a long sip from his glass as a stalling technique, Evan looked for a way to distract his companions, his eyes falling on the painting behind them. "You might want to turn around, sir."

John stopped with his glass halfway to his mouth, his eyes narrowing at the tone. "Excuse me?"

Evan pointed and the other three turned. The main subject of the work was John, but he wasn't alone. Shannon had painted him wearing all black, a T-shirt in place of his uniform shirt, facing to the left with his head turned to look out at anyone looking in. Standing back-to-back with him was the unmistakable silhouette of Johnny Cash at the same age holding his guitar behind his back. It appeared as if each was a reflection of the other. It had been painted in black and white with one spot of color to draw the attention to the words written there.

_I Walk the Line_

There was no price attached to this particular piece, just the title of the work on a card to the right.

Mouth open, John stared at his likeness, eventually finally finding his voice. "How did she _know?_"

"How did who know what?" Shannon had joined them, tucking her hand around Evan's elbow. All John could do was point. "That's how I see you."

"Um, how much…"

"It's yours."

Evan watched a spark of excitement appear in his CO's eyes though he tried to appear indifferent to the gift. "That's not…"

"I wouldn't argue with her if I were you, sir. The last man who did got an arrow in the ass."

~~O~~

From across the room, Shannon watched Evan interacting with his friends. He was at once different yet the same as the man who had spent weeks secluded in her home. By the last day, he'd been completely relaxed, as if layers had been peeled away and his true self had been allowed to emerge for the first time in many years. She liked to think that it was all her doing, and maybe much of it was. But she also knew that if he hadn't lost his memory, they might never have gotten to the point of falling in love.

Well, at least _she_ had. She just hoped he had as well or she was wasting her time even being with him. And now that she'd come back to herself, the Shannon she'd been before Steven had died, she didn't want to waste another minute. Whether it was fate, chance, divine intervention or just plain dumb luck, she was glad it had happened. Not that Evan had been injured, but that they'd somehow managed to find each other. She was brought back into the conversation when Woolsey cleared his throat.

"Ms. Coyle, I'm sorry to have to talk business on such an occasion, but the agency we work for is anxious to have your signature on the document we left with you."

"No worries, Mr. Woolsey." Over her shoulder, she called out, "Tony!" The man who was like a brother came to her side immediately.

"Yeah?"

"Those documents I asked you to hold. Where are they?"

Tony produced a tube of papers tied with a bright red ribbon like a scroll. "Here you go."

Woolsey raised an eyebrow, but for once didn't say a thing.

"Sha?" Evan nodded letting her know he wanted to speak to her alone, leading her to the garden again.

Facing her, he gave her the Lorne smile, the one he knew she couldn't resist. "I'm glad you did that because now I can do this." With one hand, he took something from his pocket while the fingers of his free hand weaved together with hers.

"Do what?"

"I'm about to show you a world you _never_ knew existed."

"Oh, Evan. You already have."

"Then get ready for a surprise." Evan activated the small device in his right hand and they disappeared in a flash of light.

~~O~~

Not long after Evan and Shannon stepped out into the garden a nervous and very harried looking gray-haired man in his fifties pushed his way through the crowd to the men from Atlantis talking with Tony. "_Where_ is Shannon? She has interviews scheduled in less than ten minutes."

Sharing an unreadable expression with his companions, Woolsey spoke for the group. "Ms. Coyle has been called away."

The man huffed angrily. "That is _just_ so typical! She becomes a recluse then finally agrees to appear in public again and on the most important night of her career she runs off on some _fool__'__s_ errand."

Taking a breath to get himself under control, Tony pierced the man with his version of a death glare. "There's been a _family_ emergency."

"But…but…but she doesn't _have_ family. She's…"

"Alone?" John came to stand on Woolsey's right, the welcoming smile on his face going away just as it did for Carson as he flanked John's other side with Tony next to Woolsey. All four men were in tuxes, Carson and Tony is white with black ties while John and Woolsey had gone the traditional route. "Listen, _pal_. _We__'__re_ her family. Think of us as her four very _annoyed_ older brothers."

"Aye. An' we don't appreciate yer _tone!_" The sentiment was echoed by the rest of the group.

Knowing his colleagues, and Tony, were backing him up gave Woolsey a pleasant feeling. He eyed the man with disdain. "If you like, we can explain it to the press _for_ you. I'm sure they'd be eager to hear how…understanding you were about the situation."

"Brothers? But you look _nothing_ alike." Suddenly afraid of what the four men glaring at him with undisguised hostility might say that would live forever in print and on the Internet, the man beat a quick retreat muttering under his breath about insane artists and their families.

When he was gone, John lifted a hand, fingers curled under. Without a word, the four men made a group fist-bump, exceptionally self-satisfied grins on all their faces.

~~O~~

Lying in bed, Sha cuddled against his side still asleep, Evan sighed in contentment. He felt now that he was not simply close to her, but that he didn't know where he ended and she began. And that's just how he liked it. Loved it, actually. Never had he felt with anyone else the way he did when he was with her.

She moved, just a little, making a small sound in the back of her throat as if she were still dreaming at the same time she was waking up. The hand on his chest curled and flattened again before sliding across to rub up and down his ribs. Not certain if she'd awakened enough to know what she was doing, he gently took that hand in his to keep her from tickling him again. Thankfully she didn't do it often.

He looked down as her eyelids fluttered open and she glanced around wondering where she was. Smiling, he tilted her head back and planted a feathery kiss on her lips. "Hey."

"Mmm. Hey." Sha pushed up onto an elbow, taking a better look around. "Oh, crikey, it wasn't a dream. We really _are_ in a flying city that used to be in another galaxy."

"Yes, we are." Her head dropped onto his shoulder again while her finger drew random patterns on his skin giving him the idea that she was anxious so he waited for her to speak.

"Evan…" she moved her hand to his stomach, using it to help her sit up, "…we have to talk."

"Yes, we do. Ladies first." Try as he might, he couldn't keep his eyes on her face. They kept dropping down to her bare chest, flat abdomen and beyond.

She snorted. "Maybe I should get dressed so you won't be distracted."

"Huh? Did you say something? I was distracted by your…" he greatly overplayed a leer.

~~O~~

That slow, sexy smile of his materialized as if by magic and Shannon knew that if they didn't move from the bed then what she had to say would get lost until later.

Lifting the covers, she swung her legs off the side of the bed and reached for the first thing she could find, which happened to be the T-shirt he'd worn under his uniform the night before. It was too big but that could only help her case at the moment.

Padding into the toilet, she did what needed to be done and returned to the bedroom to see that he'd taking her at her word. He was sitting on the small sofa in the corner in his boxers and a T-shirt, his serious expression firmly in place. Uncertain how to begin, she merely stood in the middle of the room with her arms crossed until he held out his hand.

She took it and let him urge her to sit beside him, one leg curled under. "Thank you."

"What for?"

"Everything. I know it's just the way you are, but it was so much more than that to me." Her eyes made contact with his. "Steven and I met at university. It was love at first sight for him. For me it took a little longer, but he was patient.

"We got engaged shortly after I graduated with the understanding that we'd marry when he received his doctorate. He'd already received his Master's in mechanical and electrical engineering." She paused to collect her thoughts and Evan chuckled.

"Sounds like McKay. He's got degrees out the…well, let's say he's a lot like Steven and leave it at that."

"Too right. Talks to himself a bit too." They shared an indulgent smile on Rodney's behalf. That alone told her more than Evan ever had about his friendship with the physicist. Behind the complaints, she could hear genuine affection for Rodney and it warmed her heart even more. "Um, when the time came to set a date, I kept putting him off because I was scared, afraid of fully committing to him. Eventually, we did get married.

"Just a few months before our second anniversary he was diagnosed with a rare blood disorder, a virulent type of leukemia. He'd been determined to complete the latest versions of Mega-Sphere and Duty Bound in time for Christmas so he put off going to the doctor until it was too late." Tears welled up in her eyes but she refused to let them fall.

"So how do _I_ fit into all of this?"

"Don't you get it?" The tone of her voice changed, a note of anger coming through. Not at him but at herself. "You made me see that I wasn't just mourning _Steven_. I was grieving for the time wasted because of my silly notions." His spontaneous smile almost seemed as if he was laughing at her, but she knew he would never do that. He would never be cruel.

~~O~~

Evan couldn't help smiling though it wasn't because of Sha's "silly notions." It was in sad yet fond remembrance of someone from his past. "I understand. A friend from high school, Elyse, had been engaged to her fiancé for more than ten years before they finally married. She wanted to build up her reputation in the marketing industry before she took time off to start a family.

"She and Harrison eventually married and went to Hawaii for their honeymoon, planning to stay for two weeks. On the fifth day, they went scuba diving with a group. Her gauge malfunctioned and she died." He took both of Sha's hands in his waiting for her to speak.

"I sorry." She squeezed his hands. "And what I told you before about not being able to have children is true. I was badly injured in the same accident that killed my parents. All my parts are still there, but the damage was severe so no kids." A few tears, some for him and some for herself, created wet tracks on her cheeks as she made a soggy laugh. "We're quite a pair, aren't we?"

"We certainly are." He brushed away the tears with his thumbs.

"Tell me something. At any time while you were with me, you could have taken Botany and ridden into town where your friends would have found you. Why didn't you?"

"Ah…that's not difficult to explain. I knew I needed to be someplace else, but wasn't exactly sure where. But there was just something about you that made me want to stay. I think being with you helped me get my priorities not straight but got me to think about a future aside from being in the Air Force. Carson thinks I just needed a break, to take time off from being, well, me." Shrugging sheepishly, he smiled. "Whatever it was, I'm glad it happened or I would never have found you. Besides, there are worse places to spend time than in the company of a beautiful woman on what amounts to a deserted island.

"One last thing. My birthday is July 22nd. My _sister's_ is in May."

"September 23rd." Her shy smile made an appearance. "Now that we know everything about each other, what d'ya say? Wanna get married?"

"To _you?_"

She pulled her hands free to swipe at the moisture on her face again. "Of course to _me_, silly."

"Too impatient to wait for me to do the asking?"

"Yeah." Scooting closer, Sha cradled his face between her palms. "In the end, Steven and I had less than two years as a married couple. I don't want that to happen to us."

"Neither do I. And the answer's yes. I will marry you."

Evan laughed when she eyed him suspiciously. "No doubts? No reservations?"

"None."

"Good 'cause I meant what I said before. You're _mine_ whether we get married or not."

He leaned forward until their lips nearly touched his voice dropping down to a husky whisper. "_You_ asked, I said yes and I'm holding you to it. As for kids, we can adopt. There are lots of children who are looking for a forever home. _We_ can provide that. Not sure how yet, but we'll figure it out together." His lips touched hers to seal the deal. "There's one thing we haven't done, something we haven't said yet."

"Oh?"

"Mmm-hmm. I'll go first this time." Instead of kissing her again, he veered off course until his mouth was close to her ear. "I love you."

"And I love you." She gasped when he nibbled on her ear then laid a trail of kisses along her jaw. He kissed first one corner of her mouth then the other leaving her breathless. "We should…mmm! We should tell your friends and I need to…need to call…"

Before she could finish what she'd been about to say, he captured her lips with his. Then slipping one arm under her knees and the other around her back to pull her onto his lap, he carried her across the room. Laying her gently on the bed, he followed her down and spent the rest of the morning proving just how much he loved her and she gave it back in equal measure.

~~O~~

_I love you._

Three of the simplest words in the English language, yet for some, they're the hardest to say.

But with those three words, Evan and Shannon closed the books on two lives lived separately and opened one book on a life together. Turning the pages, they began to write their own story, one that would always be filled with love and so much more…today and forever.

**Finito**

**A/N:** The original title of this story was "A Resting Place for a Weary Mind" indicating that the reason Evan had amnesia was only in part because of the concussion, that he needed a place to rest his mind where he was free from responsibility. Though it did convey the plot, it proved too cumbersome.

Then a local classic rock station played "Turn the Page" by Bob Seger giving me the new title. (Seger is getting a great deal of airplay these days due to his December 17th arrival in town for a concert. From what I've been told, he hasn't lost a step in the last forty years.)

"Turn the Page" is a song originally released by Bob Seger in 1973 on his _Back__in__ '__72_ album. Though never released as a single, Seger's live version of the song on his 1976 _Live__Bullet_ album became a mainstay of album-oriented rock radio stations, and still gets significant airplay to this day on classic rock stations. You are encouraged to check it out on YouTube. You won't be sorry.

And yes, I did get the name of Shannon's desert home from the song. Let's sing it together now.

"_I __found __my __thrill __oooooon __Blueberry __Hill__…_"

"Blueberry Hill" is a popular song published in 1940 best remembered for its 1950s rock n' roll version by Fats Domino. The music was written by Vincent Rose, the lyrics by Al Lewis.

**Additional****Note:** A Christmas sequel is in the works. Stay tuned…


	11. Roll Credits

**Turning the Page**

**Chapter 11**

**Roll Credits**

**Cast:**

Kavan Smith – Major/Lieutenant Colonel Evan Lorne

Melis Birkan - Shannon Coyle

Botany, the bay - himself

Flash-bang, a cat - herself

Suzie Tsunami, a cat - herself

Alfonso Ribeiro - Steven Coyle

David Giammarco - Tony

Joe Flanigan - Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard

Paul McGillion - Dr. Carson Becket

Robert Picardo - Richard Woolsey

David Hewlett - Dr. Rodney McKay

David Wenham - Senior Constable Bobby Hasham

Stephen Fry - Rude Gallery Owner

Torri Higginson - Dr. Elizabeth Weir

Chuck Campbell - Chuck

Jason Mamoa - Ronon Dex

Robber #1 - Uncredited

Robber #2 – Uncredited

Marine Sergeant #1 - Uncredited

Marine Sergeant #2 - Uncredited

Airman First Class - Uncredited

Lorne's Mother - Uncredited

Lorne's Sister - Uncredited

Wraith Queen - Uncredited

Women at the Gallery - Uncredited

Written, Produced and Directed

By TheIceMenace

"Filmed" on location in Australia

Music by Bob Seger and Fats Domino

_This story is dedicated to ShaViva and ladygris._

_Your friendship means the world to me._

_~Sandy~_


End file.
